Unravelling the World
by Aurora313
Summary: "How much can I change, really? No matter what I do, it won't change the fact my contribution to your legacy was to watch it end." "No, my young friend, your contribution is just beginning." [[THE ORIGINAL ERASED - NO LONGER UPDATED]]
1. Prologue

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Prologue**

The city was in flames. Grimm ran rampant and unchecked through the singeing inferno that once stood proudly as the capital city of the Kingdom of Vale.

It, like so many other kingdoms in humanity's civilization, served as a monument to salvation, security, stability, and most importantly hope.

Now it lay abandoned, rank with death, misery and despair - a dark reflection of what humanity was now; a ruin.

The Kingdoms had fallen, Grimm ran roughshod through the once great fortresses and humanity's brief existence would return to the dust from whence it came. Only a few pockets of human life remained on the face of Remnant, and in good time those measly dregs would be exterminated by Salem's children.

Or perhaps they would rise again with a fresh new perspective of the world as so many of their forefathers did. Striving to continue an endless cycle of death and rebirth, destruction and recreation that has existed since times immemorial.

With the truth that Ozpin's clever web of lies had concealed from them exposed for all to see, truly it was their choice. And if they chose to fight again and again, to reach this point of inevitable fall once more? Then perhaps it would prove amusing. But the important matter was, the veil of ignorance spawned from the Wizard's arrogance was gone.

Once again humanity knew the cold hard truths of the world. And the world's truth would invariably devour them whole. The question remained, would they submit to their fate or cry out against it?

Salem couldn't deny the deep satisfaction as she stood on the roof of a commercial building that had served as part of Vale's central business hub. Nor did she stop the smile spreading across her lips.

Perched besides her with a head under its wing was a mighty dragon that served as her mount. Though not as grand as the beast that once slumbered under Mountain Glenn, it was still a vicious lethal creature with white bone carapace over its jaws, forelegs and spine - layered like armour.

Perhaps it was hubris, but part of Salem simply refused to let herself sit idle and await the destruction her shadow beasts caused from a distance. She wanted to crush Ozpin's legacy, wanted to see it personally, and most importantly, wanted him to bare witness to her victory. A victory which in turn served as his punishment for his petulance and conniving.

Her pale hand reached out, stroking the beast's snout almost tenderly as she peered below, before her eyes found their way to Beacon Academy. The relic Ozpin possessed had to be there, hidden in plain sight. She knew it in her bones.

After countless years of searching since the tower's demise, there was simply no other place it could be. Though her Grimm scoured the tower structure and ultimately found nothing, Salem had powers and abilities the soulless horde lacked. Whatever magics Ozpin used to hide the artefact away could not be used to conceal it from her eyes.

As for the Wizard himself? Cinder had claimed she killed the man, and that was true. Mortal men could be destroyed easily by the Maiden's magic, but the Wizard was no mere mortal.

Much like the Maiden's cycle, his powers and knowledge were not limited to a single shell, and would inevitably pass on to a successor when his mortal host died. To this day, Salem could not locate his inheritor.

Regardless of whatever satisfaction any victory she won may provide, she would not feel absolution until the Wizard's new host was found and safely in her clutches.

Her gaze narrowed ponderously, so caught up in her musings that she'd hardly noticed a strange commotion only a few blocks away. Gunfire, explosions, rubble collapsing and a myriad of other combative sounds emerged from that sector of the city. Without awaiting her bidding, a horde of Grimm poured through the snake-like streets towards the commotion in a wave of darkness. Nevermores and Griffons swooped from their perches.

"It seems they've placed their last hopes on this final desperate bid." She mused, at her merest thought the dragon Grimm at her side stretched out its wings and lowered its head, awaiting its master's orders.

Salem mounted the creature, hands placed in a delicate but secure grip around an outcropping of bone and the beast took to the skies with a mighty flap of its wings.

"Do you see, Ozpin?" She said to no one in particular. "The centuries of time and effort you poured into building your guardians and Huntsmen, and this is all they could offer."

Indeed, it was a small pocket of Huntsmen fighting a pathetic last stand against her horde, their forces supplemented by a legion of Atlesian mechanized soldiers, but they were fodder. Less than that.

From her vantage point in the sky, Salem could watch comfortably out of the reach of their weapons or semblances. Had they simply gone into hiding, perhaps they would have survived just a little while longer.

But in Salem's observation of humanity; there would always be those who'd prefer to die in the thrones of battle, rather than idly let death take them when their years were expended. For all her animosity, she couldn't deny their tenacity and stubborn will was an aspect worthy of admiration.

Sighting Salem from a distance the Seer Grimm hovered from its position, its tentacles lightly swaying like a jellyfish as it hovered up to her side, clicking and groaning in an unnatural register as it communicated with the Witch. Raising a pale finger to her lip, Salem's dark eyes narrowed contemplatively.

"So Ozpin's lieutenants seek to end the game where it started." Salem returned her gaze upward towards the ruined Beacon Tower.

Once a device from which they communicated with one another, it too was just an empty husk. And acted as a resting place for the great dragon until it awoke again from humanity's collective fear and negatively.

Were they attempting to repair the tower and signal for reinforcements? Was there another wing of fools eagerly awaiting death?

"No matter, reinforce the numbers here. If these Huntsmen are eager to meet their maker, than oblige them. I will deal with the interlopers at the tower." She instructed the creature, it clicked and twitched before setting off to convey her instructions.

Salem peered at the group of huntsmen once more, noting with some amusement that the Atlesian general appeared to be leading them. She truly wished she could see just how long Ozpin's tin soldier would fare against her Grimm, but other urgent matters required attending to.

The trip took less than a moment, and this close the decay had become quite clear. Years of neglect had allowed flora to grow through the cracks in the paths in an uncontrolled spread, event across the tower's support spires and base.

Salem frowned lightly. If the relic was indeed hidden magically, it would be under this very tower Ozpin once called home.

At an unseen command, the dragon mount roared, a ball of crackling energy forming in its gaping maw, firing rapidly at the tower base level.

Salem dismounted gracefully and sauntered in through the gaping hole in the side, the dragon's blast had shattered the opposing wall which contained the elevators. The entire housing had melted, revealing the deep shaft down through the earth. Traversing this obstacle was trivial, and with a simple application of dust on her person and her own magics, she arrived at the bottom floor, the vault that Cinder spoke of.

Where Ozpin had made his last stand. Salem thought with a sense of mirth.

Tantalizing at that thought was, Salem waved it aside and continued forward.

In mere moments, creeps, beowulves and other smaller Grimm would climb down and join in on the search, but Salem would definitely not need that long. Nor would she require their aid. A group of mere mortal huntsmen were no match for her ancient powers.

It was dark and smelt of decay. Salem's eyes would acclimatized to the environment soon enough, and in only a few seconds when the spellweaves would settle, she would be able to see as clearly as day.

A swish and a clang, a scythe's blade came bearing down on her. Salem was caught off guard, but only for a second. She'd raised her palm up and blocked the blow with her strength alone. Such a minuscule attack wouldn't cut her flesh so easily.

Salem glanced up at her attacker. He had a fine pair of red eyes and his short unkempt hair was a sterling silvery-white, just like Ozpin's used to be. Her eyebrows shot up in realization, then allowed a smile to play across her lips.

"So, _you_ are the Wizard's chosen vessel?" Salem's hand was still raised, the tip of the scythe balanced so perfectly on her outstretched palm. Her eyes spying the cane still in his back scabbard. "You're playing with forces beyond your ken, _child_."

Her fingers closed around the scythe's edge, and the void energies at her command funneled into the blade. Dark red lines formed along the surface as the metal warped and cracked faster than the Huntsmen could release his grip. The void energies jumped, tainting his right hand with dark red lines.

At once, the scythe and his hand exploded in a mix of blood and steel. Shards of the weapon shattered everywhere, piercing floors, pillars and even the huntsmen's own flesh. A particularly large jagged piece slashed across his abdomen deeply, shattering his aura and another spike skid across his right eye.

Soaring from the blast, the Huntsmen howled with agony which was abruptly cut off with a sharp gasp when his back slammed straight into the pillar, knocking the air from his lungs.

Even now, his meager aura attempted to repair the damage but there was limits, and not even aura could regenerate a hand.

"How does it feel child?" The near maternal tone turned the dying Huntmen's stomach, all he could do was return with a defiant glare even as coppery red spilled from his right eye socket and the gaping wound across his abdomen. His sterling silver hair tainted crimson by an unseen cranial trauma.

Salem raised his chin almost tenderly, and something flashed across her features. It might have been pity. Hollow as it was. "Ozpin - The _Wizard_ used and abandoned your kind, even now he exists as little more than a _parasite_ that wastes your vessel away. _Why_ do you continue to serve him?"

"I'd rather fight... in the name of an honourable man who fought for life, than the complete _bitch_ seeking to end it." He spat.

" _Honourable_? You believe it's honourable to allow mankind to go through its existence ignorant of the world's greater truths? Of me?" Salem questioned curtly, rising to her feet and her hand folded in front of her.

The new Wizard gave a pained choking laugh without humour, "Hey, I ain't sayin' the Wizard's not flawed. No one's perfect." His eye became lit with fury. "But compared to the shit you've pulled? He's a goddamned saint. At least he fought for life, you'd rather see us ground to dust. Oz's world may be a lie, but it's still better than anything _you've_ put on the table."

"Ozpin created with illusion, and you served as his agent to enforce it. I merely seek to shatter this veil of ignorance and remind humanity - the world, that greater powers will not sit idle by an-"

"Yadda, yadda, yadda…" The huntsmen groaned, then coughed as he forced back another wave of pain. "Save the ' _holier than thou_ ' riff for someone who's not dying and actually gives a crap."

Salem's lip twitched. "I do find your petulance amusing. It's a trait you and your master share. But speak to me in such disrespect again, and I'll surely-"

"You are a goddamned idiot." The huntsmen taunted again, swallowing and starting to pant a little against the pain.

Displeasure danced across the Witch's features. "Mind your tongue, boy." She warned sternly, "Your life may be waning, but whether its end is in moments or immediate depends entirely on your next choice of words."

The Huntsmen laughed again, harder this time despite the obvious anguish it brought him. "You can't seriously tell me you've forgotten old Oz's bag of tricks?"

"What are you playing at-?" The question died almost the second she'd thought to say it.

To their right, hovering under its own power was Ozpin's cane. The gears whirred spun wildly to life as it disassembled itself. As the gears and handle hovered apart for a few seconds, rotating harmlessly in the air before sharply reassembling themselves, the black staff narrowed into a point while the handle components assembled like the cross guard of a boardsword. The green gem that formed the pommel of the cane glowed a bright green before the cane plunged into the ground with a earth-shattering crack.

Around it, a segment of brickwork had crumbled and collapsed as if a the very foundations had eroded. A pillar of translucent green and blue light rose from the opening.

"The Nexus was here the entire time?!" Salem roared in outrage turning her head to the portal, "You… that's not possible, all the roots of Yggdrasil had been destroyed! Unless-!"

 _How_? How did she not notice until now?! She couldn't even begin to register the possibilities before the form disappeared, leaving a green-grey dilated afterimage in his place. Salem tried to move after him, but found her body firmly locked in place. Or rather, it was moving, but at a thousandth of the speed she'd wanted it to.

 _A time dilation snare!_ How could she have been so foolish! Salem grit her teeth angrily. She'd underestimated the Huntsman, believed him a novice at the Wizard's power. But to trick her in such a manner - And not only that, but to open the portal? There was only one reason she could think of that the Wizard would dare risk such a thing.

Could it be? But that's impossible! Salem's brow knitted and she growled in sheer animalistic fury.

 _She_ wanted to savour this victory over Ozpin's legacy once and for all! _She_ wanted to slay the Wizard once he'd been so thoroughly gripped by despair! Yet he throws his life away for some gambit?!

No! She wouldn't allow it!

"NO!" Salem roared in outrage.

A vast overflow of magic breaking the time dilatation. Her void bolts raced for the Nexus, but it was too late. Not only had her void spells rebounded, but the rift was already collapsing in on itself. Its vast green and blue energies already consuming the man the Wizard was squatting in, scattering his particles like dust to the wind.

That solitary red eye burned with pure hatred for the witch, a maliciously triumphant smirk splitting his blood-stained lips. His remaining hand raised in an obscene single digital gesture as his body was slowly dissolved into the closing warp.

"I win."


	2. Chapter 1

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Qrow's eyes snapped open and his body bolted upright half in shock, before a stab of pain from his abdomen forced him to lie back down. He eyes screwed shut against the waves of pain and nausea rolling from his core and he groaned. His teeth clenched tightly against the pain as he breathed through it.

 _Okay that is pain. Definitely a good sign, means I'm alive. Whatever that stupid bullshit was must have worked._ Qrow surmised, his head thunking against a hard-as-a-rock pillow, he could tell a sheet covered him up to his waist too.

 _Oooor Salem conquered all of Remnant as we know it, snagged the Wizard as a consolation prize, and I'm just the poor sap along for the ride._

If that were the case, perhaps flipping the Witch off wasn't the best farewell - hilarious and satisfying as it was.

"Get up boy." A gruff angry tone spat, and he'd felt someone smacking his leg. Not gently either.

Okay, so that was definitely not the Witch, but someone almost as bad whom he recognized from a past he'd long abandoned.

Qrow opened his eyes again, just in time to see the old crone looming over him not even a foot away. Her wizened bony hand poised to slap him across his face and a hideous scowl crossed her own wrinkled one. On instinct, his hand caught the old crone's wrist before she could get much closer, his teeth gritted in fury and his gaze narrowed in recognition.

This old bitch was from the Tribe, _Raven's_ 'beloved family'.

The thought of once again being guest to their ilk made Qrow's stomach flip somersaults, but that thought was quickly pushed aside by the rational part of his brain.

The old woman, blind in one eye and only known as the Hag in the tribe, was at least twenty years long dead. He remembered it as one of the only times the Tribe had summoned he and Raven back from their tutelage at Beacon to attend the bat's farewell - and the only time since going to Vale that he _willingly_ obeyed.

"Good, you're alive." The Hag snorted with disapproval, her one good dark eye leveled at him with disgust. "Here I was thinking you weren't strong enough to survive."

"Really? And here _I_ was thinking I'd died and gone to hell, waking up to that face." Qrow certainly felt that way. The barbs came out like they were laced with arsenic, and the hag's lip twitched down in displeasure.

"It can be arranged." She threatened darkly, yanking her hand back with much more strength than her old age would imply. "But the Warchief insists on keeping your miserable carcass alive."

Qrow took that brief second to realize the hand he'd used to intercept the hag's was his right, and stared at it for a minute.

By all logic, it should be a bandaged stump, exploded along with his scythe during that desperate bid against Salem - well, to be fair to himself, he needed to stall for Ozpin's cane to do... whatever the hell it did.

Flexing his fingers teasingly and looking his hand over, Qrow also noticed that certain defining features were missing. A long thin scar between his middle and forefinger from when he'd intercepted a rogue's dagger aiming for his chest. Puncture marks from when a jackal got the jump on him and managed to shatter his aura after a grueling day in the field. And most confoundingly, the lines of adult muscle and age were gone. His hand looked somehow smaller. Glancing to his other, he realized the other was missing its distinguishing marks too.

"Here. Drink." The Hag spat, shoving a worn bowl containing a pale yellow broth into his hand. "The Warchief wants to see you when you're done."

The old woman left, hobbling out of what was a makeshift wooden shack while Qrow stared down at his reflection in the soup.

"Oh you've _got_ to be fucking kidding me…" He groaned, tossing the bowl aside, uncaring about it's contents splattering across the floor and ripping the bed covers aside to stand.

"Okay, don't panic. You walked into a freaky magic portal and now you're stuck as a teenager. Could be worse - at least you have your hand back… and your scythe, and you're not hungover… regrettably." He spied the familiar haft of his sword leaning against the far wall with his jacket draped from it like rack.

Saying it out loud didn't help, and it would have been better if this were just some bizarre fever dream - bar Raven, it was the only plausible reason why he'd think up literally anyone from his past life.

But Qrow pushed that aside for now. He can figure out the details of that bullshit later, right now he just needed to remember where he was and figure just how fast he could find help. He slipped on his jacket and scythe snug against his back, ignoring the pain shooting down his left shoulder - it had been bandaged, and made his way outside.

The Tribe was perhaps two hundred strong including the children. All around, there were people engaged in various activities from training and sparring to weapons maintenance to drinking and chatting away amiably. Lines of similar roughly-made wooden shacks formed a loose circle from a larger structure in the centre. These kinds of makeshift structures that weren't expected to last more than a month, but the tribe was never in one place long enough for the buildings to crumble. They gave better shelter against freak weather cells than tarp tents, and that was enough for them.

Qrow's lip turned down in displeasure, weaving through and ignoring any who tried to greet him. Most of the tribesmen left him alone, probably too involved in their own tasks to pay attention to him anyway.

"Brother."

The familiar adolescent voice of his sister called, and Qrow turned his head to see Raven weaving through their tribesmen in a crimson shirt and pants, her sword hanging off her hip.

Seventeen years of wary instinct subconsciously prepared him for some kind of treachery, but the tight embrace she pulled him in was genuine. One of relief, though her pride would probably never let her admit otherwise. He could feel her relieved sigh brushing past his ear before the low growl.

"You're a right stupid _git_ , you know that?" She barked, pulling herself away with her hands on her hip. "What were you thinking?!"

"Probably wasn't." Qrow answered back, shoving his fists into his pockets.

Raven stared at him furiously for a long moment, before rolling her eyes with a sound of disgust and snatching his hand to guide him further down the camp, towards the central building - the Warchief's hut.

"Come on." She ordered, dragging him along. "The Warchief wants to see us."

Qrow let himself be dragged long while he searched his memories for what this could possibly entail. Then it hit him. This was the conversation that would order Qrow and Raven to Beacon. To get someone inside the 'official' Huntsmen ring, then bring that knowledge and training back to the Tribe to increase their power.

The Warchief didn't take kindly to failure, and made it emphatically clear that they were both to return no matter the cost - regardless of their levels of success. Qrow made no comment. He remembered not saying much in the first time around either before the Warchief sent them on their way.

Raven had gathered their gear while Qrow remained silent, contemplating his next move. The logical thing to do would be to go directly to Ozpin and explain the whole affair in length. And while that was the obvious move, he wasn't sure if that was the right one just yet.

Qrow still wasn't convinced that this wasn't just some elaborate hoax by Salem. The Witch had many spells, abilities and Grimm at her disposal. The idea of using any one of a combination of the three was not something Qrow would put past her. But there was just a… feeling to everything that made it feel real. For now, he'd just have to bide his time until he got things straight.

The trip to Vale's border would take three days from where the Tribe set up shop, and Qrow was aware of a few good Inns between the two. Whether or not they were active in this time were a different question.

"This is the longest we've been away from the Tribe." Raven noted sadly, peering out a window of the Inn they checked into on their second day of travel.

It was a small village called Kusanagi located at the base of the mountain sharing its name. Small it may be, but well defended by the mountains to the east, large river to the north and large bulky walls surrounding the last two directions.

Qrow knew it wouldn't last. Kusanagi fell about two years after he'd attended Beacon, but it was nice to have a soft bed to sleep on. That part he could adapt to very nicely. Whether or not Raven would was a separate matter.

"Really? I was thinking I could finally breath." He dismissed, wandering into the small kitchenette to check the fridge.

Ah, a bottle of Whiskey. Only a traveller's size, but by god did he need that drink right now.

"Okay, what's the matter with you?" Raven asked, fed up.

"Beg ya pardon?"

"First, you've been silent as a crypt for the last two days. Spent most of that time looking at me like I'm about to slash your throat, and now you're strutting about like you know something I don't."

"I know a lot of things you don't, actually." Qrow replied easily, pouring the whiskey into two glasses and handing one to Raven, she smelt it and her expression soured.

"And what in hell does _that_ mean?"

Qrow merely sipped his drink. "Lets just say I've got plans outside that cornucopia of sycophants."

Raven stared at him in disbelief. "Its only two days, and already you're planning to subvert the Warchief? Are you kidding me right now?"

Raven hissed fiercely. "Brother this is heresy!"

"Then declare me a heretic and be done with me already." Qrow dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just heading off to do the job the old bat gave us, I can't help it if I start gettin' ideas."

Qrow sipped his drink again. "Besides, 'heresy' implies the group in question is divine. And we _both_ know that's a load of bull."

"Qrow, you're scaring me." Raven said firmly, though her tone betrayed none of the aforementioned fear. "Honestly think about this; take a good long think on this. The Warchief isn't someone that can be idly cast aside and you _will_ regret it if you try."

 _She can, Raven. And I already did twenty years ago. Still waiting for that so-called regret to kick in..._ Qrow thought, his gaze narrowing.

"She won't let you get away with this if she ever heard you say it."

A hand clawing at his elbow and under his sister's fierce exterior, Qrow could spot genuine panic in her eyes. Fear of retaliation from the Warchief if they'd failed in their task to become quote-unquote 'qualified huntsmen' and bring that knowledge back to train others. Or fear that she'd fail her primary task of bringing _him_ back when the school was finished.

 _Sounds about right_. The Warchief didn't particularly like Qrow the first time around either, his mouth kept getting him into trouble and nothing he really said curried favour either. Especially when compared to Raven - the 'beloved' prodigal daughter.

 _'Beloved'? Yeah right - more like the 'brow-beaten' prodigal daughter..._ he scoffed to himself.

Regardless, that fear gave him hope.

Hope that the Raven Branwen he went to school with - the sister who for the briefest time resembled something of a happy healthy school girl - was just beneath the surface. She just needed a way to come out. And even if it cost him what's left of his shriveled up soul, he would make damn sure that happy school girl stayed that way.

In fact, he already made plans on it.

"Well," Qrow leaned in with a sly smirk and winked playfully. "It's a good thing neither of us are the Warchief, and I guess I'm trustin' you not to rat me out."

Raven glared at him, her lips pursed into a pout. Qrow nearly laughed. How long had it been since he'd seen his mayhem hardened sister pout like a little child?

Qrow sat down at the dining room table and leaned back in his chair, sipping the tumbler of whiskey savouring the familiar burn. Raven moved to grasp her own glass and had it poised to her lips. He closed his eyes and stared out with a distant look in his eye. The memories of his future, their future relationship playing in the forefront of his mind.

"I got my sights set damn high, sis." Qrow said at last, meeting her gaze again. Raven returned it with skepticism. "I plan to give this fucked up world of ours a factory reset, something far outside anything the clan aims for. And I'm asking you to help me."

"I already told you, this is heresy Qrow."

"It may come as a surprise to you, sister, but I have ambitions for my life outside the tribe - and I know you do to." He said firmly, and Raven's gaze widened slightly in surprise before she schooled her face into a more stoic mask.

"No I don't." Raven told him, though it was clear her words were more to convince herself than him. "My dreams changed."

"No, you just let them beat 'em outta ya." Qrow leaned forward. "Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life just obeying _mother_? I don't know about you sister, but _this_ bird wants to stretch his wings a little and soar miles above her ambitions. Or do you feel just fine with living as nothing more than an extension of her ego?"

"This is dangerous, Qrow." Raven warned.

"It's _exciting_." Qrow corrected her, "Besides, the danger adds to the fun. It's a challenge."

His jovial tone all but evaporated, he held his hand out to his sister with a pleading look.

"I'm going to change the world Rae. I'm gonna make it better for all of us, and I need your help to do it." Her eyes widened at the nickname. Qrow recalled that he'd stopped using it when they hit their teens. Maybe using the childhood nickname would emphasis just how serious he was.

"I'm gonna regret this." Raven sighed, quiet worry lacing her tone.

Qrow offered a comforting smile in return. "I swear on my life - you won't.


	3. Chapter 2

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _Gods damn, it feels good to be home._ Qrow inhaled the familiar air deeply and felt the contentment welling in his chest.

The image of Vale in smouldering ruins was one that would be etched in Qrow's mind forever. Of the home he'd spent his entire adult life defending reduced to a pile of ash by Salem, her Lieutenants, the Grimm and the culmination of destruction that followed all three.

But seeing the Kingdom as it was for the first time in years filled Qrow with twin feelings of happiness and melancholy. The city was full of memories, of smiles and laughter, of pain and tears, places his school team would visit during their tutelage. But he was also keenly aware that none had technically happened yet.

A familiar old arcade passed across his vision and felt his stomach sink in dread. That was one of the buildings he would take his nieces when they were young kids. And the thought of those two little girls smashed against his head like a sledgehammer.

Ruby and Yang, the two lights in his hellacious uncaring world, were gone.

On instinct, his hand strayed into his pant pocket which memory told him contained two aged polaroids. The first of his team, the second of his two precious nieces when they were just starting at Signal Academy. But his hand found nothing and clenched into a tight fist.

Qrow wouldn't see either of them again, not for many years to come - and that realization cut his heart deeper than any blade ever could.

That was assuming he doesn't somehow colossally fuck up and erase any possibility of their existence to begin with. He had to be careful and his gambits would already have him dancing on a razor's edge. Any slip up would send things straight to hell and there was no predicting what would happen if - _when_ he started meddling in major events.

 _Oi, Asshat. What's the point in getting twisted up in knots over it?_ He admonished himself inwardly. _You've got a hand to play. Work it right, and the world'll be a hell of a lot better when they get here. So quit the moping and get your ass in gear._

Exhaling, Qrow reaffirmed his resolve. He wouldn't let that horrible future come to pass, and he wouldn't Yang lose two mothers all over again. He wouldn't let Ruby lose hers. He wouldn't let his best friend descend into a terrible spiral of self-loathing and depression, and he won't let Summer die this time. As for his eventual alcoholism?

…. Well, no promises.

Raven was walking at his shoulder, though she was showing a far more open awe than his stoic mask.

 _Funny, first time around - I was the one gawking like an idiot._ Her bright red eyes drinking the various stores, cafes, markets and other interesting landmarks that captivated her attention. Her neck craning to capture all the sights she could.

Qrow shot a glance over his shoulder at his twin with an amused smirk, enjoying the childlike fascination on her face. When Raven noticed him, she simply folded her arms and huffed, denying that she hadn't been impressed at all.

Of course, it wasn't hard to blame her for the culture shock. Outside the kingdoms, the largest village the Tribe raided was maybe twenty to thirty buildings with relatively low-tech equipment and defense. Vale couldn't hold a candle to Atlas' technical innovations, but it was still a bustling thriving metropolis. Filled to the brim with more people than Raven - well, technically both twins at this point in time - had seen in their entire lives. Everything was just so… often and clustered.

Magnificent as it was, cities were also claustrophobic to those not used to such a dense population. Even in his adulthood, Qrow preferred to spend his time soaring above the City, at some near-deserted bar in the undercity or at Beacon itself near the bounty board. But he could bare a bit of discomfort if it meant seeing the streets filled with happy hardworking people again.

A tiny whisper in his mind still wondered if this was some trickery, but that voice was quashed by the schemes already hatching in Qrow's brain. The personal details were too perfect and aligned far too precisely with his own recollection to be a simple trick.

Thumbing through his thoughts, he'd concluded quickly that the one thing that would make or break this whole scenario was the Wizard himself; Professor Ozpin.

While the Wizard's knowledge was gone (and while Qrow was beside himself to have his black hair back), lingering scraps of memory floated around his head. A cottage, a weed-ridden garden, a battlefield strewn with corpses and a few other images without context. Like someone had flashed a picture book but refused to explain the meaning.

Fortunately, their path was already headed towards the Professor - and even without the Wizard's knowledge, Qrow had been privy to hundreds if not thousands of secrets Ozpin's little 'brotherhood' contained. Revealing any one of all of them would prove what he knew and would go a long way to give his story credibility. And, hopefully convince the old man not to chuck him in a hospital.

So lost in his planning, Qrow hadn't realised they long since boarded the airship to Beacon now, their names marked on a scroll and accepted as applicants to the Academy. It also took him a second to realise Raven was lingering behind, again staring wide eyed at the vessel's interior.

Wordlessly, Qrow caught her hand and dragged her through regardless of her protests before finding himself a nice alcove by a window to tuck into. Raven sat besides him in perfect silence, her anger towards him forgotten and from this vantage point she kept her ruby reds trained on everyone. He could practically see the cogs turning in her mind. Each one of these people were a potential asset, rival or straight up enemy. And Raven was trying to assign labels to each.

But as overwhelming as the number of prospective students was, Qrow knew from experience that less than half of them would be their actual classmates. Only a third would remain tops. The initiation would make sure of that.

Strange as it sounds, Qrow was actually looking forward to it - Tai's first-day-of-school prank aside. It'd be a simple mission comprised of a simple series of tasks with no world-shattering consequences should something go awry. But years of honed instinct would put him on edge.

Even now, he was already going through a terse mental checklist of items he would need. A thought eventually drowned by the memory of his soon-to-be teammate. Qrow felt a sly smirk growing.

Oh, he had a plan for that little joker too. Nothing _particularly_ evil, but just as fun. Maybe it was cheating a little to know all the little tricks and schemes his teammates would play, but Qrow wasn't gonna let them all slide a second time without having a little fun himself.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet," Raven said in a whisper just audible above the collection of babbling teens present on the aircraft. "Have you reconsidered your so-called plan to _'give the world a factory reset'_?"

"Not at all," Qrow offered a self-assured smile. "Why? You reconsidering the choice to help me do it?"

Raven scoffed and slouched back in her seat, gazing out the window. "Someone has to stop you from getting yourself killed. And I'm the logical choice to do it - even if it means spitting on everything we were raised on."

"You're all heart, sis." Qrow teased, and he saw a bitter scowl flashing across her features.

"Hey." He said more firmly, his hand landing on her dark head. She was puzzled by the contact but did nothing to stop it. "I swore you wouldn't regret this. And I know this is gonna be hard for you - it'll be hard for me too, but if we see this through to the end? Then we'll be able to fix..."

His voice trailed off, unsure what to say. Raven stared at him, her wide curious red eyes matching his own. "Be able to fix...?" She prompted slowly.

"Things." Qrow decided after a moment, ruffling her hair and returning his hands to his lap.

He felt Raven's piercing gaze at his profile, but said nothing.

"Something's different about you. Since you came back from our last ra-... eh, _excursion_." Raven changed the word last second. "You're..."

"I'm what?"

Raven didn't say what, simply shook her head lightly. "Withdrawn. Like you're hiding… or you're scared."

"I fought someone," Qrow decided to offer a half truth, rubbing his right wrist in an unconscious gesture.

His stomach ached too from where he knew a metal shard pierced him. He still keenly remembered the painful loss from Salem's assault.

"They beat the shit out of me like I wasn't even worth a damn, and I was... let's just say the experience left its mark, and left me a little humbled."

Raven let out a bark of hysterical laughter, so loud she attracted one or two onlookers, but they quickly moved on. "You - humble? My left tit, they did."

Qrow gave her a strange look before he shot back. "That's… oddly specific. Is it so hard to think I could be?"

Raven slouched in her chair, her expression unreadable. "You know I know you're lying, brother. For whatever reason, you don't trust me with the truth and that hurts. But you also know that one way or another I will find out what's going on."

Qrow leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed and his expression coaxed into a stoic mask. "I've never known you to be so... inquisitive."

"Huh?" Raven answered dumbly.

"You've always just obeyed and never really asked questions. I like it." He said honestly, Raven frowned at him.

"I've never know you to be dragged half-dead back to the village either, but I guess we're both surprising each other these days." Raven snapped back, then closed her eyes and continued. "Look. I already promised I will help you, and I always keep my promises. But I can't do a _damn_ thing if you don't at least fill me in on some part of your little plot."

"It's not so little." Qrow shrugged. Raven punched his injured shoulder, hard enough to nearly knock him out of the chair.

"Damn it Qrow!" She hissed through tightly gritted teeth, grabbing the collar of his shirt and holding him close. Qrow didn't stop her. "I am forsaking _everything_ for you; our mother, our family and our positions; a little trust is not too much for ask for in exchange!"

Qrow said nothing, Raven glared harder. When Qrow looked away in thought, trying to figure out the right wording.

Memories floated to the surface of his mind. Of the last time he'd seen his sister in the future; it wasn't pretty.

He recalled the shattered mask, broken diagonally from where a Death Stalker's stinger cracked through the porcelain stained with unhealthy amounts of blood, most of it hers… and the rest of her in piece. Qrow closed his eyes and forced that image from his mind. He may have hated his sister's choices in life, but he loved her. To see her end so pitifully…

"You'll die." His voice was hollow.

"What?" Raven was taken aback for a second, her grip loosened a little.

"Call it an epiphany." Qrow continued. "When I fought that... someone, I came to the realization that what we - what the _village_ was doing was… well, it wasn't practical or sustainable. We can barter with all the settlements on Arima. And when they dry up we'll hit the lands of Sanus or Solitus, but exactly how long do you think that would last before the Kingdom's Huntsmen rallied and hunted all them down?"

"They've tried that for years." Raven answered, crossing her arms.

"And how many times have we just _narrowly_ escaped?"

Raven hesitated. "... more times than I care to remember."

Qrow cupped his hands behind his head and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Call me crazy, but that doesn't exactly sound like my slice of life. I want a place I can call home, I want somewhere I can rest my head and not have to scram cause rivals or Grimm decided we look like a nice snack."

"The weak die and the strong live, that's the rule of our life brother." Raven recited from memory in a weary, almost resigned tone. And Qrow simply carried on.

"C'mon. You don't have to keep up that crap here. It's just me little sis." He winked, and Raven merely continued to brood. "Besides, some rules are made to be broken. That one most of all."

"The powerful will always pray on the weak, Qrow, that's how they gained power in the first place." Raven sighed, her bitter tone replaced with the tired resignation of a girl who'd long since given up any hope of a different path. The very same girl Qrow hoped to reach in these next years. "Whether we're involved with the 'powerful' or not, it will still happen."

Qrow conceded the point. "True. And regardless of how strong a person becomes, they will always be weaker to someone else. But is it so hard to believe that there may be a different way to live our lives?"

Raven gazed at him, her eyes half hooded. "You _know_ I gave up on that a long time ago, mother made sure of that. And everything we've experienced has just proven what she taught us over and over again."

"Mother is the absolute epitome of why the village will vanish into the void…. or get gobbled up by Grimm; depends who's hungrier really." Qrow replied coolly.

"Epito-what?" Raven raised both eyebrows confused, then shook her head. "Whatever. If you think she's such a problem - and you clearly do, then what the hell's stopped _you_ from challenging her and taking the title for yourself? The both of us together could do it."

Qrow nearly rolled his eyes. "The entire set-up itself is the problem. Its an unsustainable existence. I'm not interested in leadership or anything of that kind, it'd be like asking a recovering alcoholic to drink another shot of whiskey. I just want to live."

"Then help me ascend to leadership alone," Raven offered and Qrow barely suppressed the grimace. That was precisely the outcome he wouldn't let happen. "You don't have to be part of it, but you can help me guide it somewhere better."

Qrow closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose before looking her in the eye. "Raven. I've already told you want I want to do far exceeds anything the old bag can think of. I know letting go is going to be hard, but for once in your life can you do yourself a favour?"

"What?" She huffed.

"Be selfish." Qrow told her firmly.

Raven was taken aback, and clearly lost for words. "I…" She blinked a few times, and looked positively gobsmacked at the ideal, like it was a completely foreign concept.

If Qrow had to trace all of the problems his sister had back to a single thing, it was that no one ever placed the power of choice in her hands. No one ever told her that this life was hers alone, to do with as she wanted.

Becoming a warrior? Their tribe forced it on the both of them because only strength will thrive and they didn't need weaklings. Killing and raiding? The tribe required it to survive regardless of its soldier's personal feelings. Throwing up and crying because her first kill? Shut up, emotion is weakness. Lost one battle? Shape up or you're not worth our time. For the good of the tribe, for the good of the family, blood must be obeyed above all.

All of those thoughts rang through his mind as a teen, and doubtlessly repeated as a mantra through hers as well.

Raven and Yang were two woman cut from the same cloth in that way. Circumstance would constantly take and take until they had nothing left, then it dared to take a little more. And there was only so much a person could take before they snapped…

Before he realised what was happening, Qrow was too late to save Raven from the point of no return.

But he wouldn't let that happen a second time. Keenly aware of the bitter irony that he was planning to do exactly the same thing in a huge way; if the choice was between staying with a loving family - where for a few brief years she was truly happy, or becoming the bandit Bitch Queen of Arima? Then he'd bare that burden of guilt gladly.

Exhaling a long breath, Qrow pushed himself to his feet and stood in front of Raven's chair, hands leaning against her arm rests. He looked her straight in the eye, his own lit with firm determination.

"Look; fuck what the family thinks, fuck what the rest of the world thinks. Hell, fuck whatever _I_ think. Don't look to martyr yourself for those bastards, cause I promise you little sister it'll destroy you. Live for yourself because it's what _you_ want."

Raven broke eye contact and folded her arms, trying to use annoyance to disguise her perplexity at what he was telling her. Qrow smiled slightly.

"And while you're at it - do me another favour; _Have fun._ " He punctuated his words with a quick kiss to her brow.

Raven jerked back at the unexpected physical display of affection, like it was the first time she'd received such a kindness in her life. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and mystified.

" _Who are you_?" She demanded, frowning and suspicious.

Qrow straightened up and smiled down at her. The truth will do nicely.

"I'm just a concerned big brother looking out for my little sister."


	4. Chapter 3

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

When Qrow's world came back into focus, he was confronted by a thoroughly unfamiliar high-arching ceiling. Elegant looking chandeliers hung over him in rows. Their crystalline elements highlighted by refracting light from the moon's natural radiance.

 _Hell of a weird prison._ That was the only thing he could think of.

The last thing he remembered was a raid. Someone tried to attack him, Qrow had countered with a riposte - noting with revulsion that he ended the poor soul's life in that stroke. Then an agonising greenish white light engulfing his consciousness. The sensation of a hundred thousand needles bored into his skull while his aura tried to burn him alive from within.

The memory sent a fresh wave of pain through his brain and he tried to reach for his temple, only to discover that to his horror that he was a prisoner in his own body.

He could hear snoring and sputtered sounds of sleep on either side of him, and he could feel that he was lying in a warm sleeping bag on the ground. But there was a surreal detachment from the sensations. Like he was wrapped up in a layer of fuzzy static.

Qrow sat up quickly and scooched out of the sleeping bag peering around a large hall, some kind of upper class ballroom it seemed - but he couldn't understand where the overwhelming sense of familiarity was coming from.

Beams of light from the shattered moon splayed across the sleeping bag-littered floor. They were all filled with other kids, other people his age. Male and female, Human and faunas. His gaze rested to his left, where Raven slept with her back to him and shivered slightly. He registered that it was cold, but couldn't even shiver reflexively.

Powerless, Qrow couldn't do much more than watch as his hand reach out to pull the bag's cover just a bit higher over Raven's shoulders. A gesture that both puzzled him, and that she unconsciously appreciated. Her fingers clutched the fabric even tighter around her shoulders. Then he stood and casually sauntered to the hallway just behind a flight of stairs in the far side of the room. His light steps muffled by the carpet underfoot and fists shoved in his pockets.

Try as he might, Qrow couldn't so much as twitch a finger, let alone influence whatever force was now controlling him. The force that must have been the reason for that blinding light and the agony he experienced before passing out.

And that, coupled with this unfamiliar place - which for reasons beyond his comprehension felt more like home than any place he'd ever been - set his nerves on edge.

"I wanna right the Ursa!"

As Qrow passed another row of students, one suddenly burst from his sleeping back with a sudden bark of noise, unintelligible gibberish followed and then continued to snore. Qrow's eyes landed on a blond haired boy, and his steps stopped briefly lingering on him. Again there was a strange familiarity to the man. And he felt something else, a kind of sad yet fond exasperation and his lips pulled into an amused smirk.

Taiyang Xiao Long. That was his name.

"Yeah - that's about right…" He heard himself comment vaguely with a low chortle.

If Qrow was in control of his face, he'd frown in confusion. How did he know that? He'd never seen the kid before - hell, he'd never even _seen_ this place before.

Then a thought struck him. Wait… was his voice talking to _him_? It could just be he was remarking on the blond guy's - On Taiyang's outburst.

 _Damn it!_ His helpless consciousness was struggling to comprehend all these twisted feelings and sensations. They were foreign, but somehow... not?

Still, he didn't linger on the boy for long. His body was apparently content to continue its trek towards wherever it was going. He had no idea how - not sure he wanted to know, but wherever he was going - that force seemed to think it was desperately important.

Qrow had made it around the corner to a set of glass double doors leading to an open walkway lined with pillars and neatly hedged bushes. The brick paths cut through the freshly cut grass and split off into different directions.

 _Gods. Please tell me this is some lucid sleep walking thing._ He internally grumbled.

"Nope." His voice replied, popping the 'p' in his signature verbal tic.

 _Did… did you just-_

"Do us both a solid and calm down kid, I don't need you stressing me out more than I'm doing myself." His hand opened the door and closed it behind him stealthily, then began the trek through the paved courtyard. The stone path was freezing under his bare feet and there was no one around. Only the sparse light fixture illuminated the grounds.

Qrow pictured himself dropping his jaw incredulously. His recovered a split second later. _Oh, 'Calm down' - yeah friggin' right. You tell me how calm you'd be if ya suddenly found yourself riding shotgun in your own skin!_

"Like I had a choice." Qrow heard himself grumble. "I didn't ask for this to happen, but it did. So cool your jets, and we might be able to figure a way out of this situation."

 _How did I even get into this situation?!_ Qrow snapped furiously. _Where am I, where's the tribe - and who in the ever loving hell are you?!_

Qrow heard himself sigh, and his face went into his palm. It took a moment before he received a reply. "One - that's a good fuckin' question, and admittedly _miiiiight_ be my fault. Two - this is Beacon Academy-"

 _Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. The Beacon? As in Vale's Beacon Academy?_

"Yuuuup." Again, his voice popped the 'p',

 _What the hell I doing here?!_

Hearing himself groan again, his voice continued as if uninterrupted. "Three - far as you and Raven are concerned, the Tribe's dead."

 _Wha-_

The thought died, stunned into silence Qrow once again was lost but the words strung together like a mantra. Not from a loyal soldier, but from a scared child not wanting to be punished for disobeying.

 _That's not possible. The Tribe always survived. Blood above all survives. Mother always-_

"That _bitch_ won't be around much longer. I promise you that." Qrow felt an anger simmering to a boil.

 _You won't be able to do anything._ Qrow answered back quivering in fear, not from the entity he was talking to but the memory of the tribe leader. _Mother knows when we're disloyal. She always knows. It's not like you can do anything about it, whoever the hell you are._

"Really? She didn't even notice a difference when I spoke to her the other day and she sent me - _us_ here. Then again, I am you and it's kinda easy to pass off as yourself."

Okay. That snapped him out of it. _Wait… WHAT?!_

"She ain't a god either. I've seen real gods - fought against one." Qrow lifted his right hand, fingers brushing over his wrist and he registered a strange ghostly pain attached to the action.

"And trust me - she doesn't even register. Got a god complex maybe, but she's a person and people can disappear." Qrow's voice said out loud as his steps carried him to the massive spire at the centre of the grounds, his neck craning up and a smirk tugged at his lips. "All you need; is to know the right person to help you do it and a couple cards to play. As it so happens, I've got both."

 _Wait wait wait, hold on a second - back up to the part where you're supposed to be me?! You're not me - I'm me!_

Qrow felt himself groan again. "Look, I could go through this whole song and dance, but frankly, I'm in no mood to repeat myself twice. So how about you pay attention when I find the Headmaster, okay?"

 _What does the Headmaster have to do with anything?_

His shoulder sagged and he stared up at the sky pleadingly. "Gods, please tell me I wasn't this much of an idiot as a kid…"

 _Hey - considering this is my body you're taking a walk in, I think I'm entitled to know where I'm going and what you're planning!_

"... It's almost like you don't listen. I said I was going to Ozpin." He said, entering the building and crossing the green and white marble floored foyer to reach the tower elevators.

His hand poised to press the call button before -

"What are you doing out of bed?"

 _Well ain't that a crap stroke of luck…_ Qrow thought bitterly.

"Don't start." His 'other self' warned under his breath then turned to face an attractive blond looking woman wearing black, white and purple. Her hair tied back in a neat bun and a riding crop strapped to her boot.

The stern look etched in her features gave her an impressive presence and made her look years older than her beautiful appearance would imply, but Qrow was physically unfazed by the hard stare. This woman was… Glynda Goodwitch? He probably knew that the same way he knew Taiyang's name - The 'other him' swimming around inside his head.

"I've been looking for a couple friends of mine actually. They're been wandering about lately and I'm just a little concerned is all, Professor." Qrow heard himself answered blithely.

Glynda seemed unconvinced. "Is that right, and what is the name of these friends?"

"Oh, Lily - heard her _Spring_ down this way earlier." Qrow noted Glynda's gaze turn suspicious, her eyes growing stern and serious as Qrow went on. "Although, I did meet up with Astra during _Autumn_ , she and Petunia had a get together during the Vacuo _Summer_. Haven't seen Melinda since _Winter_ though."

A moment of silence passed. _Okay. I'll bite - What the crap was that?_

Goodwitch however seemed to grow even more stern, like Qrow had uttered some disgusting slur to her face.

"You're no ordinary student, there's no possible way." Glynda's fingers clutched around her riding crop tightly with a warning glare cast at Qrow.

"No I'm not." Qrow told her firmly, "Glynda, I can explain how I know the season's names, but I don't have a lot of time and I need to see Ozpin right now."

"Its Professor to you, initiate - And why should I let you do that?" Qrow huffed then folded his arms.

"Cause if you don't; the schools fall, the relic are lost to Salem, humanity's gonna be screwed and we're all gonna die." He told her bluntly, then added the sarcastic quip with a light shrug. "Plus I'm a fan and I want his autograph."

 _Holy SHIT! Don't sugarcoat it or anything!_ Qrow practically screamed inside his mind. _What the hell's a 'relic'? And what the hell is a Salem? I mean - What the hell have you got me mixed up in?!_

Glynda's eyes narrowed darkly. "How do you know all of this?"

"The answer to that is in the same story frankly." Qrow sighed, scratching the back of his head. He glanced around as if to check the surroundings for spies or eavesdroppers before taking a step closer. He spoke low, but with utter sincerity. "You need to hear it too - along with the other headmasters. But Melinda is going to die in the next few hours, and even if I can't at least save her life - I'll be able to tell you who took her power and where the next Winter Maiden is. Trust me; we will need her help."

 _Okay, hold on - Maidens? As in that old fish wives tale 'Maidens'? Yeah - pretty sure I'd like to wake up now._

A shadow passed over the professor's face. "Help to do what?"

Qrow exhaled sharply. "Hopefully, fix this gods forsaken world."

Goodwitch appraised him for a moment, taking a step back. Qrow could see she was weighing her options. Frankly, he was too baffled with what his 'other' self was saying to think straight. Maidens? Salem? Relics? The Season's names? Regardless, he was a helpless spectator in this affair. Hopefully whatever the other Qrow had to say would explain things, and metaphorical fingers crossed that they could somehow get out of this situation.

"Very well. This better not be a hoax." Goodwitch warned fiercely, her expression making it very clear what would happen if it was then she punched for the elevator herself.

"Thank you Glynda. I owe you one," Qrow intoned in relief, then cracked a smirk. "Another one."

 _I'm so godsdamn confused..._

* * *

"Don't suppose this is Irished up?"

Ozpin was not in a particularly gaming mood, not did he appreciate the young student's halfhearted joke as he raised the mug. Then again, he would put up with it if what Glynda had said about him was true. As the ancient gears stirred below them, so too did the gears in Ozpin's brain trying to piece together exactly what this could be about.

"You're under-aged." The Headmaster said at last, resuming his seat.

"I'm over forty." Qrow muttered petulantly, taking a long sip.

Letting the silence hang for a moment, Ozpin took a slow drink from his own mug of coffee then placed it down on the coaster to the left of his desk. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning.

Qrow sighed heavily, slumping back in the guest chair adjacent from Ozpin's desk. "I wouldn't even know how to start cause I know this is gonna sound certifiably insane-"

"More insane than claiming to be from the future while still appearing nothing more than a teenager?" Ozpin raised an eyebrow with the barest smirk and Qrow snorted.

"Okay - yeah, you got me there." Clearing his throat, the supposedly time travelled Huntsman continued. "I was in the vault, walked through some weird mystic green and blue light your cane opened up - felt like I was being flayed alive over and over, then woke up outside the Kingdoms."

"The Gateway." Ozpin supplied after a moment's deep thought, lines of concentration on his face.

Qrow vaguely gestured downwards, "Salem called it a 'Nexus' - seemed stunned as hell that it was even at Beacon. To be honest I only found out cause I inherited the Wizard's power."

The offhanded remark caused Ozpin to frown, he templed his fingers and scrutinised Qrow. "You?"

"I know, I know. Last person you'd expect right? About twice removed if that helps any…?" Qrow shrugged helplessly, unable to offer anything more, grimacing slightly at his own blithe comment.

Ozpin's gaze was still fixed on Qrow. "Yeah, don't ask me. It was a desperate last minute thing. The guy that they were supposed to go to - well, it didn't end pleasantly for the kid."

"And so the powers went to you?"

"More… like we hijacked the process, I suppose…" Qrow shrugged again, sipping the coffee once more. "Nearly killed me, but we couldn't lose the Wizard a second time and we didn't have the time to find the next poor sap in line, so I volunteered."

For the longest time, Ozpin was quiet but a mildly troubled expression passed over his features before he gave voice to his thoughts. "In truth, I had no idea how the Nexus gate functioned either. I know it was linked to the powers of the Relic of Choice. But perhaps this may serve as a primary function."

"A giant green cosmic reset button? Yay." Qrow snorted in derisively downing more coffee, he licked his lips then continued. "Look, I had no godly idea what it was gonna do. The memories you left just showed me it was here and it was powerful. James Ironwood, Glynda Goodwitch and I came up with a desperate plan, to make a smash and grab for it. As you can imagine, after the world had already gone to hell in a hand basket, we were out of options and figured we may as well take the chance. If it didn't work, then hey - we went down fighting, and no one can blame ya for that..."

Ozpin raised a narrow eyebrow. "Would you care to elaborate what you mean by that?"

Qrow seemed hesitated, briefly meeting Ozpin's gaze before his own eyes became downcast with shame. "The Kingdoms were gone. Completely destroyed. The relics were taken too. Vale got screwed over first - that bitch, Cinder, framed my -"

Ozpin remained stone faced while Qrow cut himself off with a deep breath, calmed his anger down and began again. "One of Salem's agents staged an assault during the Vytal festival Tournament, then used an already unstable Fall Maiden Candidate to essentially commit murder. Broadcast that to the world? You can imagine the Grimm starting to see Vale's citizens as a tasty lookin' buffet."

In that second, the entire room turned cold. A horrendous aura of silent rage filled the space, radiating from the headmaster.

"She dare touch my students..." His voice was arsenic with an edge that promised a swift death to those that crossed him, his fingers clutched around the coffee mug so tightly the ceramic cracked. Thankfully, there was no coffee in there to clean up.

Taking another calming breath, Qrow continued. "They managed to hack some high class Atlas tech, got it to turn against the Huntsmen - including Glynda and I, they recorded the chaos then trashed the CCT with the Harbinger Sunion."

Ozpin watched Qrow point to the south east window, where the outlines of Mountain Glenn could be spotted in the horizon. Slumbering inside that mountain was a monstrous Dragon Grimm. The thought of it awakening was not a comforting one.

"About ten months later, war was officially declared between the Kingdoms while agents snuck their way into Haven and Atlas." Qrow stared down at his empty mug, "Vacuo is, well, Vacuo but in the end, things took a turn for the worse… There's a hell of a lot more to that, but I think you get the gist of what I came from."

"I do." Ozpin said, his tone approaching his normal unflappable patience.

"Glynda, James and I found out about the Nexus - our original plan was for all three of us to find the damn thing, but when the situation with his knights grew worse, Ironwood broke off to reinforce them. then Glynda," Qrow paused and glanced over to young Glynda who'd remained quiet during the entire exchange with her arms folded. Now she'd been called by name, she looked only mildly unnerved. A ghost of what she must half felt under her usual stoic mask.

A haunted look passing over Qrow's features. "You snared by some kinda... gargoyle Grimm I'd never seen before - I promise, that's saying something."

Ozpin watched a sorrowful shadow pass over the young boy's features. "In the end, it was just me. Everyone else was gone. Hehe - what can I say, it's just my luck," he muttered bitterly to himself.

Ozpin wasn't entirely certain what the young man was referring to in his remark. His own features lit with sympathy and sadness. "You've met with quite the terrible fate, haven't you?"

Qrow scoffed. "Kinda underselling it a bit there, Oz."

Silent for a minute, Ozpin contemplated the information. It was beyond troubling. "If you know of the Wizard's inheritance, then you must know of the Maidens as well."

"You need to send a message to Melinda." Qrow snapped back to a business tone instantly. "Tell her to stay inside Mantle's capital, otherwise she's going to die. And a few people we don't wanna think about will get Winter's power."

Ozpin exchanged a glance with Glynda, then nodded his approval. "Contact Headmaster Gale. We will be in the vault when you return."

The Professor nodded her head curtly in response, then set off to the elevators and carry out his order. Qrow kept his wine reds focused on her as she did, but it appeared as if he had something he wished to share. Something more than just information to elaborate on his story.

"You seem as if you'd like to tell me something else." Ozpin rose from his seat and circled the desk with the broken mug in hand and set it down on the small table with the rest of the coffee set.

"To be honest with you, part of me is still wondering if this isn't some twisted scheme by Salem to drag information out of me." Qrow confessed with a nonchalant shrug.

"I must admit we are in complete agreement on that matter. However, if you truly were in line with the Queen, I doubt you'd be so willing to relinquish this information freely."

Qrow opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. "Ya got me there; I'll be upfront and say I do have a condition for the information - two actually. But its nothing to do with Salem. It's a more… _personal_ matter regarding certain parties."

"I see," Ozpin pushed his spectacles further up his nose. "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain bandit clan roaming the borders of Anima?"

"Ya know, I stopped questioning a long time ago where you got your intel, but yes. It does have to do with them." Qrow admitted with a sombre chuckle, and shook his head. Any feigned humour vanishing instantly.

"I certainly hope you're not so bold as to ask I grant them amnesty?" Ozpin asked, vaguely amused at the audacity if that were the case.

"No," Qrow said, shaking his head. "I want 'em gone."


	5. Chapter 4

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

A dull steady chime echoed through the elevator as it descended Beacon tower, signaling each floor it passed before the chimes died completely. The sudden silence marked that the cart had descended below the foyer level and was well on its way to the vault buried deep under the School.

The silence occupied by the Academy Headmaster and Huntsman initiate was terse and suffocating. Neither had spoken a word since they entered the enclosed space. Ozpin was processing the request that Qrow had set before him, while Qrow silently awaited his response.

It was a morally grey proposition.

On one hand; two hundred lives would end either in the literal or the metaphorical sense. On the other; they were criminals, bandits and raiders responsible for the generational pillaging and massacring villages beyond number for decades.

But that drop in a buck weighed against the ocean of lives the young time traveller's information could save - there was no real question about which path to take.

Ozpin spared the boy besides him a cursory glance. As a headmaster and a student of human behaviour, Ozpin prided himself on being able to read everyone he spoke with, yet Qrow's expression and demeanour were completely unreadable on this matter.

The old headmaster distracted himself to note with wry amusement that they couldn't look more mismatched. Ozpin had dressed in his usual formal attire, black suit accented with a green vest and neck scarf pinned by a silver trinket glittering in the light. Qrow was dressed in little more than a plain grey t-shirt, grey pants and was barefooted with his hands tucked in his pockets.

From the state of him, it was entirely possible Qrow decided to head straight to Ozpin's office the very second he woke up at this dark hour.

The elevator gave a final chime before the reflective doors swished open, revealing the large vault chamber. Rows of large column pillars spaced roughly seven metres apart lined the gargantuan hall, reaching high and disappearing into the pitch blackness of the ceiling. Pale green lanterns washed the entire room in a greenish white hue, and provided far more illumination than their tiny sizes would imply.

Ozpin walked through, the light tap of his cane and his footfalls echoing throughout the empty chamber. Qrow fell in step behind him. Neither spoke as they walked through the vault, until they came to the large circular arrangement of tiles between two central support pillars.

Ozpin walked past it, unimpeded. However only a second later, he heard Qrow behind him give a sudden sharp gasp of surprise and stumble back, actions made all the more audible by his bare feet against the polished tiles and the desolated chamber.

The headmaster turned and watched a strange ethereal green and blue energy rising from Qrow's body like mist, drawn like a magnet to a similar mass of energy rising from a tiny focal point at the very centre of the ring, which generated small glimmering particles like tiny ascending stars.

Qrow looked at it, then the Headmaster perturbed. "Okay... not gonna lie; that kinda hurt."

"The Gateway," Ozpin said, approaching it and regarding the young man with a sad look. "Forgive me, my young friend, but I'm sure you can understand that for someone in my position, I had to be certain that your story was true."

If Qrow was offended, he didn't show it. He backed away four paces from the portal and the greenish blue hue rising from him subsided completely - so too did the portal settle.

"Reasonable," Qrow muttered. "Could have warned me it would _hurt_."

From that stare, Ozpin couldn't tell if he was the target of the initiate's sudden ire, or the inactive gateway resonating with both his aura and the power within Ozpin's cane.

"This way, please." Ozpin gestured to his left, and strode through the the vault. Qrow followed him, giving the inactive portal mouth a particularly wide berth.

They arrived at a pair of double doors etched with ornate elegant patterns embedded directly into the vault wall marked only by silver filigree inlaid on the handles and frame. An obvious portal for those who knew where to look, but so subtly woven together that an outsider would miss it at a mere cursory glance.

Inside was a grand library that reached three stories tall and at the left of the room was a large stone spiral staircase which allowed one to ascend to the upper levels.

The library's walls were lined with small books, large tomes, data storage devices old and new, stacks of loose leaf paper written in both common and illegible script neatly bundled by twine - much of which turned a crinkled yellow with age. Large maps adorned whatever free space was left. At the centre of the room was a fine oak desk with a single green desk lamp and all the utensils neatly aligned with the dark grey mat that covered the varnished wood.

Inside this room were the written chronicles that stretched back for lifetimes immemorial. Ozpin noted that Qrow didn't seem at all surprised by the room's presence, but that could easily been residual memories left from the Wizard power he inherited or as a member of Ozpin's inner circle.

But the young man was no wizard any more, and that came with dire consequences they needed to discuss.

"I may not know exactly what the Gateway is, but all of the research ever conducted on the portal is contained within this room." Ozpin explained, and Qrow nodded but seemed a little puzzled.

"Why would you need that? You already know how it works. Aren't I proof of that?" Qrow questioned, folding his arms after throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "Wasn't that little display back there enough?"

Ozpin could sense the young boy's eyes on his back when he went deeper into the library and returned with a medium sized tome; a hand-written research ledger with an ancient leather cover and locked by a semi-rusted bolt. The borders were littered with assorted papers and stuck notes. Ozpin set the book down on the desk, carefully pried the small lock on the binding open and leafed through, mindful of the fragile pages.

"True; you are indeed proof that the Gateway does perform a function previously outside our understanding, but I haven't the slightest idea exactly what the long term effects are of using the Gateway on a person's soul."

"On my soul?" Qrow raising an eyebrow.

Ozpin nodded once firmly, he paused in his reading and looked at the young man pushing his spectacle further up his nose.

"Yes. As you can obviously see, you are not in your adult body but inhabiting the vessel of your younger self, which implies the Gateway functions as less a transference of form and more a transference of consciousness." Ozpin paused with a pensive expression, his hazel eyes now focused on the information presented to him by the aged text.

Ozpin paused again and looked up at the young man for a reaction, but Qrow simply waited for him to continue. "In other words, the Gateway converted your physical body and aura into a uniform mass of energy, then propelled it back through time. That mass of energy then instinctively sought out and inhabited a compatible vessel; your younger self."

Qrow nodded ruefully.

"Yeah and I promise he's not exactly happy about it either; cussing up a storm actually. Feel sorry for the pipsqueak gettin' tossed in the deep end like this." Qrow commented gloomily.

Ozpin swore he saw the young man's lips twitch into an satisfied smirk. But that look vanished quickly as it came when Qrow turned serious, jutting his chin pointedly to the headmaster. "Remind you of anyone?"

Ozpin raised an eyebrow at this intrigued. It seems this situation was much more familiar to him than he ever realised. Ozpin too knew the strangeness of a foreign soul taking up residence in his vessel. But this situation was completely reversed. The elder consciousness gained complete control while the resident mind was pushed into the metaphorical back seat as it were.

"I suppose you could make that comparison," Ozpin agreed, folding his fingers. "However, I'm sure you can understand that this situation presents certain complications."

Qrow spread his arms wide, sarcasm oozing from every syllable. "Of course it does, cause nothin' can ever be simple can it?"

Ozpin found himself smirking at the dry remark, but quickly refocused himself on the task at hand and peered at the passage referring his concerns. "Regrettably not. And in this situation, it's exceptionally dire. As I cannot let your information disappear for obvious reasons, we need a way to stabilize your aura before your body rejects it."

Qrow's head cocked to the side in confusion before jabbing a thumb in his chest. "But this _is_ my body. Or at least a version of it."

"It is, but it isn't. The tremulous union of mind, body and soul within you has been thrown into calamity. Not to mention the state of your soul-" Ozpin lifted his hand slightly, "-I can only describe it as shredded."

"Well isn't that just _spectacular_." Qrow responded with sarcastic cheer.

Ozpin continued. "Whether it's because of the Nexus' propelling your mind into the past, or because of the Wizard's power forcibly stripped from you in the process I can't say. Doubtlessly, both experiences would be thoroughly traumatic, let alone both at once? By all accounts, you should be dead."

Qrow gnawing on his lip in thought, his brow twisting into a frown as he exhaled. "I was mortally wounded when I used the Gateway, and what you're basically saying is all I did was buy myself a little time."

Processing the information, Qrow threw a hand up and looked the old man in the eye. "So, what? After gods only know how much time, my soul will disappear and the teenaged Qrow will take his body back?"

Ozpin pondered the question. "Most likely, your souls will vanish together leaving this body as little more than an empty shell."

Qrow carded his fingers through his hair. The magnitude of the situation weighing down on him before he turned back to the headmaster to voice his frustrations.

"I _refuse_ believe that I came back just to hand this kid a death sentence," Qrow shook his head, exhaling again. "Is there anything you can do? At the very least, get me out of him so Qrow can go back to his life?"

Qrow's thoughts wandered to Atlas, to Ironwood's little aura transfer device. The very same device they were going to use on Amber and grant her powers to Pyrrha. A vain hope that died just as quickly. That device wouldn't exist for many years to come. Not to mention Qrow doubted it would be as easy as that. It never was.

"No." Ozpin replied apologetically, "There is no possible way you can exist as a separate entity and survive. As it stands, your aura has already merged with that of your younger self. Frankly, that connection is the only thing keeping you alive - but even that may not be enough. There's always the chance that your body will eventually acclimatise to holding two souls, but-"

"-Chances of that are damn slim, am I right?" Qrow interjected bitterly.

Ozpin sighed gravely. "Unfortunately, even as young as it is, it may be as simple as your body is too old to adapt. And in that instance; If one of you goes, so does the other."

Qrow paced once again, hand pressed over his mouth like he'd wanted to be sick with anger.

"Son of a _bitch_." He growled furiously, then turned back to the older man. "He's a fucking kid! There's gotta be something you can do to at least keep him here!"

A split second later, a bookshelf in the far corner behind them collapsed - cutting the tension with a thunderously loud crash to the ground. The wooden frame broke free from its place, leaving rusted screws embedded in the wall. The books tumbled out with a loud echoing clatter, half of them crushed under the shelf's weight. Ozpin shot to his feet on instinct and both men looked at it. Qrow with guilt, Ozpin in surprise.

The younger gentlemen looked downward, his eyes half hooded and gnawing on his lip. Ozpin stared at him, eyebrows knitting together in a frown. The Time-travelled huntsman was clearly at war with himself on this matter. He looked Ozpin in the eye.

"I'm sorry. I didn't-" Qrow said hastily with an apologetically tone. He looked back at the pile of books in resignation. "We should probably push this along. Don't wanna screw things up more than they have to be."

Ozpin nodded, his gaze moving from the young man to the pile of books. His tone spoke of nothing but understanding of the young huntsmen's frustrations. "For the time being, you will attend to Qrow's responsibilities. I'll conduct my own research to find a way to abate any side effects that may arise. With luck, we may be able to extend your time indefinitely or perhaps find a solution entirely."

Qrow rubbed his forehead in exasperation, though he spoke in a calm tone. "I don't know if you've noticed, Oz, but if I were lucky, I wouldn't have had to come back in time in the first place; A future where my only contribution to your legacy was to watch the world end."

"Your contribution is just beginning, my friend." Ozpin declared, then a full smile appeared. "With enough haste, you may have already saved the Winter Maiden."

Qrow chuckled once, humourlessly. "Assuming your agents manage to save her."

"I have faith." Ozpin responded.

Qrow smirked slowly. "Suppose that's enough, then."

Ozpin closed the book on his desk and took up his cane once more. "I'd advise you return to the ballroom and rest, Qrow. You've a long day ahead of you tomorrow, and I only can imagine it's been a particularly stressful journey."

"Yeah. Thanks." Qrow nodded and made his way back into the vault's main chamber. He paused and half-turned back. He hesitated before choking out the words. "It's good to have you back, old man."

* * *

"Are you still with me, kid?"

Qrow's voice broke through the silence only occupied by the sound of a cold howling wind. The chilly air kissing the back of his neck as he strolled back through the courtyard towards the ballroom. He couldn't quite block the instinct to shiver this time and the footpath were chunks of ice under his feet. His younger self had been quiet for a long while, and understandably so.

 _Yeah_. The voice echoed through his mind, the unease written in its tone just as much as Qrow felt a very real primal fear in his bones. _Yeah - I just… Holy shit, dude..._

"It's a lot to take in," Qrow conceded, "First time hearing it's pretty insane; but doesn't change the fact the whole thing's real. Maidens, Salem, Magic - the whole shebang."

 _Okay. Let me try to get this straight… there's this secret war between some evil Grimm Queen and the old man, only the headmasters know about it; and we're all - what? Cannon fodder? Why doesn't the whole world know? Atlas, Mistral or any of them - does the old man get kicks outta keeping the world ignorant?_ Young Qrow accused, fear giving away to irrational anger.

Qrow felt his own features contort with fury, but not for the same reasons.

 _Gods. If the old man's running the show like this; how the hell does that make him any different from the Warch- OW!_

A quick hard slap to the back of his own head shut the young Qrow up while the elder ignored their mutual pain.

"It's a complicated issue." Qrow replied, pointedly ignoring the comparison. His tone grew dark and ominous, twinged by the painful memory of his last days in the other timeline. "Trust me, I had the same questions too. But if the world knew about Salem, there'd be panic and chaos; calamity that not even all the Huntsmen, armies or Bandit clans on Remnant wouldn't be able to stop."

 _And that's what you ran away from?_

"That's what I saw it happen." Qrow affirmed.

 _Well…_ The younger Qrow huffed in his mind. _Still not entirely convinced its not all bullshit, but I g_ _uess I gotta give you some credit. This definitely puts things into perspective._

"Yeah, it does at that." Despite himself Qrow gave a sharp sudden bark of laughter. "Told you the bitch meant nothing in the long run."

 _Do you have to keep calling her that? She still raised us, man._

"She's not our real mother anyway, so hell with her." Qrow dismissed blithely.

 _SHE'S NOT?! Who is!?_ The voice screamed in his ears, demanding answers.

Qrow had finally returned to the ballroom building, through the back door this time. This hallway led through locker rooms and the armoury. He could have gone the long way and towards the front entrance but honestly? The cold was getting to him, and he'd prefer to be walking inside on carpet with a heated air than outside in the chilly winds. A storm was coming, its edges cropping up over the horizon and it would be over the school by dawn.

 _Fine; since you didn't answer my last question,_ Young Qrow broke the silence with a note of bitterness, _Why were you so hung up on saving the Maiden anyway? Melinda right?_ _She a special friend, or super important outside the Maiden thing or something?_

Qrow allowed a shadow of guilt to pass over his features. "To be frank with you, it's not Melinda I really wanted to save, its the-"

 _Hold up - Do you hear that?_

There was a low soft snoring that filled the otherwise empty armoury. Qrow's brows knitted together in a frown. Believing it wise to halt any further conversations with his young counterpart, Qrow silenced himself and moved closer to the source of the noise. It was another student to be sure. He peered around the corner towards a row of benches set between two sets of lockers. A young girl dressed in grey and white pajamas slumped over a weapon, various parts and tools scattered around the fresh bench space and besides her on the ground.

"Oh my god, she's a faunas." Qrow stated bluntly, momentarily stunned.

He blinked, and blinked again. After everything he'd been through - especially in the last few days - one might consider it ridiculous that he'd only now just start questioning his sanity. But he couldn't help but do so now as he was transfixed by the wolf ears perched on top of the head of Summer Rose. They poked just out from the edge of her pajama hoodie.

 _You know her?_

Qrow didn't answer. He was astonished, staring at the prone frame of his future team leader. Summer muttered something in her sleep, but snoozed on, untroubled by the apparent awkwardness of her resting place.

 _Oi! The landlord's asking you a question here. Don't friggin' ignore me, you asshole!_

"Wha- Yeah, yeah... I know her." Qrow answered reducing his voice to a mere whisper to keep from waking young Summer. He sighed wistfully. "I _definitely_ know her… Summer Rose. She's Team STRQ's leader."

 _STRQ, as in… is our Hunting Team called STRQ? Okay, yeah - that's a pretty cool name. But aren't those things named after colours?_

"Stark White." Qrow supplied, rolling his eyes. He couldn't deny how cute her ears looked, twitching lightly in her sleep. "Gods, I never knew she was a faunas."

 _… the ears tend to be a dead giveaway._

"Don't be a little shit." Qrow retorted, unable to take his eyes off her.

 _But that's part of my charm. So how the hell did you miss this one, Captain Obvious?_

"She wore her hood up the entire first year, when we came back from end of term break-" Qrow closed his eyes and exhaled a heavy breath of air. "-Well, I guess I know what really caused that so-called climbing accident."

 _Huh?_

"Long story." Qrow brushed off, walking over and lightly nudging Summer's shoulder.

He felt a prang of guilt. In hindsight, many of her actions now made a great deal of sense. _And that's why she was so scared before Ruby was born. She was terrified the pipsqueak would inherit her faunas trait..._

 _Who's Ruby?_

Qrow ignored him, and nudged her shoulder again. "Hey, wake up. You'll get a cramp if you keep sleeping here."

Summer groaned and grumbled lightly, pushing herself back and stretching her arms up with a cute little yawn. Qrow saw that she was slumped over her weapon. She blearily rubbed her eyes and stared up at him. In that second, horror mixed with fear flashed across her features when she realised her hood was down. Her hands shot straight to her hair, covering and pressing down her wolfish ears.

"Please, please don't tell anyone." She pleaded in a mortified whisper, tears of fear already forming at the corners of her large silver eyes.

"Tell anyone what?" Qrow prompted, folding his arms with a knowing smirk.

 _Smooth._

Summer cocked her head, confused then seemed to finally cotton on. She quickly flicked her hoodie back over her hair with a nervous look. "Please just pretend you didn't see anything." She reiterated.

"My lips are sealed." Qrow assured her.

Summer glanced up at him, then looked down at the weapon laying

 _She's cute._

"Shut it." Qrow muttered.

"Huh?" Summer looked up at him, a little unease.

"The dust round chamber." Qrow quickly pointed to the component on her weapon. "Keep it exposed and you'll blow out the barrel before you get your first shot off."

Summer glanced down at her weapon and squeaked in fright, quickly scrambling to re-assemble the contraption. Even at this young age, Summer had a deft hand when it came to machines and she restored her weapon to its proper form in next to no time.

 _Nice recovery._ The young Qrow teased.

"Fuck off." Qrow hissed back quietly, covered by the sound of metal collapsing in on itself.

 _Hey, if I'm stuck as a backseat driver for this crap I'm gonna make the most of it._

Summer quickly scrambled to her locker and stowed it then gave him yet another pleading look. "Please, just keep these a secret okay. I don't want any trouble."

"Hey, it's fine. I won't say anything. Not my secret, not my place to say anything." Qrow assured her.

"You promise me?" Summer insisted, holding up her fist with her pinkie out and a look of pure determination in her eyes.

 _Are you kidding me?_ A laughter reverberated through his mind, and Qrow had to admit he was trying exceptionally hard to not share it.

This was exactly the kind of thing he expected from Summer. Rolling his eyes Qrow raised his hand and hooked his pinkie finger around hers.

"Promise." He answered, and a dazzling smile spread across Summer's lips.

"We better get back to bed before someone notices we're missing." She suggested, turning on her heel. Qrow followed her out, they managed to get half way through the armoury.

"Oh, by the way, you might wanna check your bolt chamber before you clock out. It didn't sound right." Qrow suggested, Summer shot him a look of pure mortification before dashing back to check her weapon.

 _Oh my god, she's adorable._ More laughter echoed in his mind.

Qrow held his hand poised to strike. "I will slap you again."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Okay, just in terms of genetics here. You know how someone with brown eyes, but has a blue-eyed parent can pass on the recessive blue eyed trait to their children? That's how the Faunas/human genetics work in this story. The faunas trait is dominant, but if a faunas has a human recessive gene passed down by a human parent, there is a chance they'll produce a human child.


	6. Chapter 5

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Qrow's skin burned as if standing over a raging inferno.

He was in a city he didn't recognise. From the architecture, it was somewhere in Mistral. All around him, buildings were alight with red and yellow flames. Screams filled his ears, ash clogged his lungs and the stench of charcoal and burning decay filled his nostrils. The very air felt like breathing in fire. Ghostly voices demanded his attention but Qrow couldn't find who was calling or why.

"Qrow…" someone called his name.

He blinked and the vision changed. Now looking down at a young boy with hazel eyes wielding a cane far too ornately built for someone his tattered clothing implied. Just some backwater farmhand, but looking at him felt like he was staring at someone of significance. There was a kind of reverence towards the brat, almost the kind the older Qrow felt towards Ozpin.

"Qrow!" the voice called again, full of desperation and panic.

He blinked again. Finding himself lying in some suffocating metal and glass tube with an individual he didn't recognise looking on somberly, regretfully; from the insignia on his breast some Atlas bigwig with a military rank badge.

But those details were lost against his raw screams reverberating off the interior, the echo intensifying a hundred fold in the close confines. A greenish colour light blurring and mixing with red. His nerve endings felt like they were being frayed, agony burned through him like lava pouring down his spine.

"QROW!"

Qrow's eyes shot open and he bolted upright with a painful gasp, his heart thunderous painfully against the wall of his chest. His shirt stuck to his skin with sweat and he panted, his breaths coming out in great gasping heaves.

The dull after echoes of pain throbbed at his temples and Qrow groaned, raising his hand to his temples before brushing his hair back. Then his eyes widened when he realised the significance of the action.

He had lifted his hands, nothing else forced him to do it. It was all by his will that his arm moved. That sensation of static interference between his consciousness and his senses was gone.

Had he dreamed that meeting with the Headmaster last night? Was it really just a vivid trick of the mind with some sleep waking and self delusion thrown in for good measure?

The talk of disavowing his mother, the tribe; it was only in his wildest dreams he would ever dare think of such things, so it made sense after a fashion.

Glancing around, Qrow found himself once more in the hall with many students stirring from their slumber. His eyes shifted to his left, he found the spot previously occupied by Raven to be empty. His heart was seemed to race even faster as he scooted from his sleeping bag and quickly made his way out of the hall into a passageway that was quite deserted.

Qrow wasn't sure where he was going, but an instinctive familiarity guided him along until he found himself in an empty boy's bathroom and face to face with his haunted, tired reflection. He looked like hell and frankly felt the part too.

Closing his eyes, Qrow turned his senses inwards. Aura sensing was never a keen talent of his, but he knew enough fundamentals to get by. And his heart nearly stopped cold and his blood turned to ice when he did indeed sense a foreign aura attached to his own.

Something far more coarse and frayed than anything he'd felt, like chunks had been shaved off. It didn't feel good at all. Mercifully for him, he could also sense it was dormant for now. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say 'sleeping'?

"Okay…" panic laced his tone and his breath came out in quick huffs, turning on the tap and washing his face. "... okay, so either this is really happening, or I'm going insane. Probably both."

Even in this broken deformed state, the aura was powerful. Powerful enough that it could override his control simply by being conscious. Worse still, there was no telling what would happen when it became active again. And Qrow didn't really fancy acting as someone else's mouth piece.

Even if that someone was… well, _himself_.

"Why me…?" He whispered the plea to whatever gods might be listening, washing his face once more.

Was this just his misfortune coming to a head? Was it now affecting him as well as those nearby? Forcing him to dance along like a puppet on strings while powers beyond his comprehension played games with the world?

He shuddered, shaking his head. Gods this was so completely beyond his understanding; Gateways, Time travel, Magic relics, Grimm Queens, Maidens, a Wizard, transferring souls, the possibility of an accelerated demise. All of this was so utterly insane, and he didn't sign up for any of this. But he somehow got caught up in it.

 _Just my luck, right?_ He noted wryly trying his damnedest to control his breathing, but he could already tell that was a losing battle.

Frankly he almost missed the days where the scariest thing in his life was the wrath of the Warchief. Had to remind himself that it was only a day ago from his perspective that his mother's bloodlust was the most terrifying thing in his life…

Qrow paused, another wave of uncertainty crashing over him twisting his stomach into painful knots.

The older Qrow said that the Warchief wasn't their mother, more still that she was just a mortal woman - not the deified all-dominating figure the entire Tribe feared her as. He was even bold enough to speak in such disdain like she wasn't even a woman at all; just a rabid dog that needed to be put down.

The thought wasn't just treason, it was heresy.

But how could she _not_ be their mother? The significant resemblance shared between all three of them was utterly undeniable. Raven's face shape was similar to the woman, her skin hue and general lean frame was the same as Qrow's. Not to mention, they all shared the same dark feathery hair and blood red eyes.

The clashing realisations and implications of these ideas threw everything he took as law into question.

If Morrigan Branwen _wasn't_ their real mum, then all the things he'd forced himself to do to try and get in his 'mother's favour; were they really for nothing? To get favour from a stranger that deceived him in that role his entire life?

Qrow clasped a hand over his mouth, his stomach lurched and felt like he was going to be sick, even now in the mirror's reflection he watched his face turned a sickly pallor.

He wasn't sure how long he spent hunched over a toilet bowl. But it was long enough to gain a spectator; who at first seemed ready to joke and tease over the state of him, but quickly transformed down into genuine alarm.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay buddy." He felt the stranger's hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles and Qrow would have bashed it away were it not for the horrid trembling state of him.

"Initiation's nothing to be scared of, okay?" The boy continued in what he clearly thought was a comforting tone. "Look at it this way, Pal; you made it to freaking Beacon Academy! That's pretty much a badge of honour right there! So don't twist yourself up into knots over this, alright? You'll get through this."

Qrow weakly rubbed his hand across his jaw in a sloppy attempt to clear himself up, and glanced over his shoulder to find the blonde brawler staring down at him. A damp towel offered in his hand.

It was Taiyang.

Qrow snatched the towel to pat down his face. He hated that he knew the name without actually knowing who the boy was; hated the inexplicable - well, not so inexplicable really - surge of familiarity, comfort and gods-forbid the unbridled kinship he felt towards the him. These were emotions built from blood, battle and a lifetime of friendship. But Qrow had experienced none of these things with the boy.

Irritation and anger simmered to a boil inside him. Qrow wanted to lash out. At Taiyang, at the Headmaster, wanted demolish the bathroom; just do something to let loose the rage burning inside at this situation.

Worst still, the well-intentioned if misplaced sympathy felt outright mocking. Qrow gritted his teeth and looked away.

"Thanks." He grunted out bitterly, pushing past Taiyang and moving back to the sink to wash his face some more and rinse his mouth.

Worry etched deeper on the teenager's brow. "Hey, do ya want me to take you to the doctor's office or something? You're shaking like a leaf, buddy."

"I'm-" Qrow barked out angrily, then shook his head with a slightly calmer tone. "-going through some personal shit right now, and if I'd be massively understating it if I said it's screwing my head up."

Qrow felt like he could at least owe up to that much.

"Oh," Taiyang answered, his gaze flickering downwards for a brief moment no doubt concocting whatever theory he wanted about the vague words. "Is it anything I can help with?"

"Why would you want to? What makes you think you even _can_!? You don't even _know_ me!" Qrow snapped at him, scowling. Before he closed his eyes and exhaled.

Taiyang recoiled slightly at the outburst, but the concerned frown was still very much present on his features. "What am I supposed to do when I hear someone being sick, you jolly grey jackass! Just walk along and pretend nothing's happening. Gods forbid someone just wants to help cause it's the right thing to do."

A long tense moment passed between the two as they scowled at each other before Qrow looked away, leaning heavily against the bathroom sink with a hand running over his face.

"Sorry." Qrow offered in a trembling tone, overcome by fatigue. "I'm sorry, I get what you're tryin' to do - but its…"

"- _Complicated_?" Taiyang offered with a vague shrug then folded his arms.

Qrow laughed breathlessly, shaking his head. "You have no gods damned idea."

"Maybe you really should consider going to see the Doc or something if it keeps up like this?" Taiyang suggested once more somberly. "If nothing else, something to take the edge off-" Taiyang waved a hand vaguely up and down Qrow's frame, "-whatever this is 'til the initiation's over?"

"I don't even know where he is," the excuse rang hollow and he breathed deeply. "I'll be fine. I've fought in worse shape before."

"You have?" Taiyang cocked an eyebrow, astonished.

Qrow's head jerked up in surprise, he hadn't realised he'd said that last thought aloud.

Taiyang blinked at him then snorted in amusement. " _Geeeez_ , and here I thought my sensei was a slave-driver. What, would your trainer make you fight with a limb hanging off or something?"

"That's… actually not far off." Qrow admitted, twinge of humour entering his tone.

Taiyang nodded slowly, a smile creeping across his lips but not quite reaching his ears. It was still overshadowed by his concern.

"Right," he said at last, then clapped a friendly hand on Qrow's shoulder. "I know you probably aren't feeling up to it, but they're serving us breakfast in the cafeteria. If nothing else, you might wanna get something in your stomach to settle things down. And take it easy today while you're out there, okay man? Oh, and I'm pretty sure I spotted some showers in the armoury - might make you feel better."

"Thanks." Qrow replied tersely.

Taiyang gave a single nod then turned to leave the bathroom, he paused and half-turned back. "I'm Taiyang, by the way." he offered awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"Qrow."

Taiyang nodded firmly again, "Good luck today, Qrow. And I hope you feel better later."

"Yeah." Qrow nodded back weakly and he was once again left alone.

He swallowed down a lump in his throat and ran his hands through his hair again, then whipped his face down with the towel. The nausea was subsiding, but more questions sprung to the forefront of his mind.

So many questions swirled in his thoughts, and Qrow wanted answers.

Answers his adult self and the old headmaster had. And if they weren't going to give them to him, then he would fight, kick and use every tool in his arsenal to resist until he got them.

The question was; how do you resist someone that exists inside your own soul?

* * *

Ancient gears whirred and stirred in the clock tower that served as the office for Beacon's headmaster. Ozpin had his back was against the row of elevators that served as the primary office access. Quietly, Ozpin stared out at the foul threatening weather, sheet lightning dancing between the dark grey clouds.

Quite the foreboding omen if one were to believe such things.

Ozpin had his hands templed in front of him, elbows leaning against the chair's armrests as he pondered last night's turn of events. The warning he sent out on Qrow's word did indeed save the Winter Maiden's life, and led to the capture of one of Melinda's assailants.

Headmistress Gale had taken personal charge of the interrogation and protection detail of the Maiden in the meantime; and while Ozpin trusted the woman to protect Melinda during her recovery, he would rest far easier when he could assign another watcher to protect the Maiden.

Ozpin allowed himself a small smirk. Perhaps it was fair to say he now owed Qrow a debt three times over; not only had he saved the Maiden and allowed them a chance to discover who orchestrated this recent attack, but the young man may have very well saved the life of one of Ozpin's best field operatives and close personal associate.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Ozpin heard the elevator chime which gave entry to a visitor and he felt his smirk grow briefly into a full and relieved smile before coaxing his expression into his usual affable stoicism.

"You know I can't stress enough my _complete_ reservation at how Ursula's handling the whole situation in Atlas," it was a woman's contralto voice and her words were punctuated by a long slurp.

Even from this distance away, Ozpin recognised the tell-tale scent of coffee but noted with some distaste that it was clearly smelt an inferior blend to the brew he preferred.

"She's handling matters as best she can, Fenix-" Ozpin turned to face his guest. "-maybe you should learn to trust others a little more."

"Well, I don't trust anyone who makes more than I do…" she replied with a tired yet playful kind of petulance.

Fenix was tall lean woman wearing black pants, thigh high heeled boots and a maroon blazer jacket. Her dark messy hair tied back in a loose tail, a significant collection of bangs covered across the right side of her face - which Ozpin knew was to hide the large array of ancient disfiguring scars that covered that half of her face.

Even though she wore her usual burgundy wrap-around sunglasses, Ozpin could see the telltale black bags of fatigue under her visible eye. An obvious show of fatigue further accented by the subtle grumpy expression crossing her features. Clasped in her right hand was a dull grey thermal cup which she sipped from every few seconds.

"Whatever you say old man," Fenix grunted in assent, taking another long gulp off coffee. "So, how's the interrogation going? Has Ursula actually found anything, or am I up for another round trip back to Atlas to bail her out of this one?"

"When was the last time you slept?" Ozpin questioned, leaning forward with concern etched on his features and ignoring Fenix' own question.

"There's plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead," Fenix dismissed with a vague shrug, drinking another gulp of coffee, refocusing herself on the business at hand. "Has Gale turned up anything?"

Ozpin exhaled somberly, "Unfortunately in this instance, Headmistress Gale can't provide us with much information. The assailant is dead. Apparently, she died some time after you departed Atlas. It appears she had a cyanide pill hidden in one of her rear molars."

Fenix scoffed, rolling her eyes. "So I am heading back to Atlas to clean up her mess? Well-" She sipped down more coffee. "-hope Ursula picks up her scroll because I friggin' called it."

Ozpin leaned back in his chair. Fenix' blithe attitude was something he was accustomed to, having worked with the woman for the past sixteen years; but there were occasions where it proved far more grating than charming. This happened to be one of them.

"Ursula doesn't typically let these sorts of mistakes happen, it could very well mean there were factors we weren't prepared for." Ozpin mused on the situation.

"Or someone's a turncoat," Fenix suggested, her tone taking a steely accusatory edge.

Few people were aware of the true nature of the maidens in the Atlas Academy's ranks. The idea of a traitor amongst them was a disconcerting one to say the least. When Ozpin contacted the Atlesian Headmistress for a follow up report on the situation, she was very keen indeed to pass the fault onto Fenix; an action suspicious in itself.

"First thing I said was 'be cautious, she made have some self-termination method handy'. Of course, Gale never listens to me so-" Fenix lifted her hands in a helpless shrug and another exasperated grunt. "-maybe she'll pay attention next time."

"Perhaps." Ozpin noted vaguely.

He heard Fenix give exhale wearily. "So, back to Atlas?"

Ozpin simply shook his head. "Ordinarily, I would agree that is the case. However, other circumstances have recently come to my attention and I need you to take care of another matter for me."

"Another Maiden-sitting mission?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Or is there someone you'd like to disappear?"

"Neither." Ozpin sighed quietly, a twinge of regret and guilt entering his tone. "I understand your discontent with this arrangement, Fenix. But I'm certain I don't have to reemphasis the importance of your role in these matters. Especially now of all times."

"No, you don't." Fenix answered dutifully, then a frown flashed across her features. "And I can't exactly say I'm discontent so much as frustrated by the constant recalls, but 'needs of the many' and that whole cliche."

"That is the nature of necessity I'm afraid," Ozpin answered quietly,

Fenix nodded and took another sip of coffee, moving them back on topic. "So why 'now of all times'? Maidens being attacked for their power isn't exactly something out of the ordinary. Last time I checked, Astra was doing some big charity relief effort in Mount Glenn - I _assume_ you're talking about the Autumn Maiden, yes?"

"No. Not this time." Ozpin rose from his seat and walked to the window, surveying the encroaching storm with his hands clasped behind his back.

"There's someone I need you to shadow, for their own protection -" Ozpin paused for a minute turning back to face the woman. "- I believe he may very well be the key to stopping _her_ plans once and for all."

Fenix blinked behind her glasses, her free hand perched on her hip. "Okay, I'll bite; what's so special about this pipsqueak?"

"A teenager actually," Ozpin returned his gaze to the oncoming storm, pondering his next words. "For now, all I'd like you to do is watch him. His information could very well mean the difference between victory and defeat as I said, however, there's also the distinct possibility his health may fail him at any time."

"Exactly how remote is the possibility?" Fenix' brow creased, her tone turning serious.

Ozpin exhaled slowly, "For now? Considerably. But as time goes on, that probability will only increase."

"And you'd rather have someone with professional medical training on permanent standby in case that scenario does happen, right?"

Fenix gulped down some more coffee and sighed, "You don't think that's going to raise a few eyebrows if I've suddenly switched assignments? The bad and good guys alike are gonna notice a changing of the guard, Oz. They're not dumb." She pointed out, "They're gonna wonder why one of your best has been reassigned to some random schmuck for no apparent reason… then they're gonna wanna find out said reason."

"True." Ozpin conceded, "Our Allies will ask questions, and when the time comes I'll have the appropriate answers for them. As for other parties that may want his information? I have every confidence in your ability to be discrete."

Ozpin spoke his words with conviction. Fenix pursed her lips.

"Got it." She answered, "So, who's the kid?"

The headmaster returned to his desk and brought up a profile picture.

"His name is Qrow Branwen."


	7. Chapter 6

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

Rain hammered down like bullets against Summer's heavy white cloak soaking her to the skin, and she could feel the chilling winds slice to her bones through her thick woollen jumper.

Initiation was… _interesting_. That was about the only flattering way Summer could think to describe it.

It was a gruelling trial; what little she'd overheard from hushed snide remarks of older students implied as much. Given Beacon was also the top combat school in the kingdom, some level of difficulty would be expected. But now, it seemed the skies wished to make it even more so, lending their aid to an already treacherous pursuit.

Thunder crashed down constantly, illuminating the world in a flash of brilliant white with every strike. Sheet lightning danced in the dark clouds above and Summer felt it hastened an already urgent task.

Before the test began, Professor Ozpin had directed the new initiates to line up on a row of etched steel plates bearing the symbol of Beacon Academy. His voice barely audible above the torrential storm they suffered through. The rainfall was so intense and thick that it was difficult to see more than ten feet past the cliff edge, let alone the forest below; all of it enveloped in a white curtain.

Professor Ozpin sounded far more grave than he did at the welcoming ceremony yesterday, the hard edge of legitimate worry and concern was impossible to disguise in his tone. More so, he severely warned caution, and informed them that if any students hadn't returned within three hours the professors would step in and retrieve them.

As he explained, the students trapped in such circumstance would be given an opportunity to return in the next intake, but Summer received the distinct impression this particular amendment was not regularly employed. Granted, this weather was so hostile it was probably lucky the Headmaster was letting them attempt the assessment at all - if luck was the appropriate word.

T _hen again, we Hunters aren't given a luxury of working in ideal conditions._ Summer mused gloomily to herself. _Suppose it's good practice...?_

As she understood, this test would already require every last ounce of their strength, will and courage and strategic intelligence to face. All of which Summer possessed in ample supply.

When dealing with mindless monsters of enmity that is.

Slaying the Grimm was something she was used to - enjoyed even.

Not in the way a blood-thirsty gladiator enjoys a good fight in the pits, but in knowing that slaying just one more grimm meant one more person was safe from the misery they unleashed.

Becoming a Huntress was all Summer ever wanted since she was a very small girl. The sisters at the monastery would attempt to gently dissuade her from the path, but Summer's mind was set. In light of her stubborn zeal, the sisters relented and helped arrange an apprenticeship with a local huntsmen, leading into an eventual scholarship offer from the combat school a district over.

Even now after spending a night in Beacon's halls, having breakfast in its cafeteria and tending to her weapon in the armoury, Summer still had trouble believing that she was really here. That all the countless hours of effort had paid off.

Although, she'd started to regret keeping to herself during the last day. She was never good in crowds. Regardless of how her new peers seemed to consist of a diverse range of people equally diverse in walks of life, Summer doubted that they were any more accommodating to people like her then anywhere else was.

Summer had wanted to avoid any incidents, and incidentally discovery, so kept to herself most of the night. In doing so, she inadvertently shot herself in the foot.

She frowned, trying to mull the situation over and figure out precisely where to go from here; Should she forget trying to find a partner and simply move towards the relics on her own? Would that mean she'd fail the assessment given the Headmaster's emphasis on finding a partner? But what if she found a teammate who didn't respond well to her kind? Would she be stuck with her own personal tormentor for the next four years? What if she found both a partner and a relic but failed the timelimit?

None of the answers she came up with were encouraging.

Her lips pressed in a fine line as her hands clutched so tightly around her weapon she couldn't tell if the numbness was cold or pressure. It was a sniper rifle, a fairly large and powerful one at that. It was light silver and dark gun metal with small red details down the barrel, scope and a white vanished stock.

 _Silent Briar_ was its name. And it was merely the latest iteration of the weapon design.

A thunder clap nearby sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins and Summer quickened her pace. The forest canopy provided a pitiful protection against the rain, but Summer didn't want to test how much punishment it would shield her from. Checking over the weapon, she weaved her way through thick foliage and muddy underscrub when a thought occurred to her.

Maybe she should try to find the boy she met last night? The one that woke her up in the armoury.

He was nice. A little weird maybe, but nice. Summer couldn't help but feel a certain apprehension. He'd seen her ears and seemed not to mind, even promised to keep it secret. But humans had a habit of being callous to her kind. It wouldn't be the first time someone had played on her trust, then cruelly disappointed her. But there was something genuine, honest and mature about him. Like a protective older brother, some sort of guardian figure.

That and he _was_ quite handsome, in a roguish dangerous sort of way.

Summer huffed, feeling a momentary disappointment. If she had any sense, she would have asked his name!

Already Summer could imagine the monastery's sisters clipping her on the ear for forgetting her manners. "You were raised better than that, Little Rose." the shrill tone of Sister Marron rang in her ear and Summer felt her expression sour.

 _I should really introduce myself properly when I see him again…_ she chided herself glumly, _Assuming I get to see him again and don't get washed out in this test… literally._

Pursuing a makeshift path through the foliage, it seemed like the Grimm were content to leave her alone so far. She hadn't even spotted any tracks to follow, granted any signs of their presence were probably washed away in the hellacious weather.

Regardless, just because she hadn't seen a Grimm since landing didn't mean she could take things easy either. Checking her ammo cartridge, she exchanged the lightning dust bullets for an ice type pulled from a pouch on her belt. They'll be more effective for entrapping Grimm in these conditions.

Priming the bolt chamber, Summer carefully eased her way through a particularly thick brush and found herself wondering whether or not she was in a maze more than a forest. All of these clearings looked the same.

But then, she caught a scent - heavily mottled by the rainfall, but she caught it nonetheless. Closing her eyes, she focused all of her concentration on expanding her senses to near superhuman proportion. On the furthest edge of her hearing through the patter of water, she could hear the distinct low register of a Grimm.

After pinpointing where she believed the sound originated, Summer reopened her eyes and held her rifle at the ready advancing cautiously towards her left.

Her instincts proved correct, and soon after sounds of steel slicing through the air mixed with the primal pained howls of Grimm being felled. Grunts and growls of exertion also weaved its way into the symphony of battle. By the time Summer found the noise, her heart immediately sank in disappointment. She held some vain hope that fate was being kind, and the boy she met last night was producing the ruckus. But that disappointment was momentary, from the second she saw the battle, she was awestruck.

In a clearing not fifty metres away from when she first heard it, there was a girl with long dark hair stuck to her brow and back in rain. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a predatory grin as her thin long sword sliced through Beowulf limbs with easy. Corpses of fallen beasts evaporating around her in black vapour as more seemed to join the fray. Waves of black monstrosities came, and waves fell by her sword.

Her form was perfect in its brutality, detailing a level of mastery over her blade that Summer believed few people in their class could only dream to possess. Her eyes were a brilliant blood red, almost luminescent in the dark day. She was dressed in a simple black, short sleeved Mistral garb, the black slowly creating gradient into a bright crimson. Her black ankle boots were heeled with red thigh high stockings. Like her dress, they too were coloured by a gradient from black to red.

She was beautiful. Not in a dainty, maiden-like way from the fairy tales, but in an exotic and dangerous and lively way. Like beauty and brutality made manifest. Her mere presence had an edge that Summer again believed few prospect peers could hope to match.

As fast paced and rapid as the melee had seemed, it abruptly ended with a final perfect riposte. The girl stabbed the last Grimm through the throat, drew her sword out with a graceful flourish and returned it to its large dark scabbard looking none the worse for wear.

It was now Summer caught herself gaping in awe at the tremendous display of martial perfection and corrected herself immediately.

The girl spun to face her once again taking up a combat stance and Summer felt a spike of fear, like she would be the next victim of the other girl's attack.

Summer blinked, the girl stared at her. Summer blinked again then smiled uncertainly. The girl scoffed in response, dropping the stance before moving away.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Summer's voice almost startled herself, "We're supposed to be partners now; those are the rules!"

"The old man said we had to find a partner," the girl said with a brash acerbic tone, glancing over her shoulder with a judgemental look. "He didn't say anything about _keeping_ the partner."

She turned abruptly on her heel and moved towards the forest, purpose in every stride. "I fight with my brother or no one at all. Go find someone else; someone like you will only slow me down."

Summer tried to speak but words failed her. But then, her brow set with furious determination. "How can you judge if I'm weak, if you don't give me a chance to prove myself!" She stalked up to her angrily, her boots splashing in the muddle puddles, and shoved a in the girl's face. "You can't just judge someone based on-"

Summer's words cut off, she shoved the other girl out of the way and raised her rifle. With one quick squeeze of the trigger, and a resounding bang, the head of an Ursa exploded into a mass of ice crystals. The girl drew her sword and finished the job with a single blow, hacking the Grimm's head off, then dusted herself indignantly as if Summer's touch somehow stained her clothing.

Her face scrunched as if pondering a distasteful thought, her red gaze cycling between Summer and the evaporating Grimm behind her. Her lips formed a thin line, glancing back at Summer with utter disdain.

"Well, I suppose teaming up with someone _other_ than my brother could be fun..." she spat, then jabbed a finger at Summer. "But you do what I say, when I say, how I say it. Got it? And if you're too weak, I'm dropping you like a brick."

"Oh I'm good." Summer promised happily, clutching _Silent Briar_ to her chest with a gleeful grin.

" _I'll_ be the judge of that." The girl snorted derisively then huffed irritably. "Lets go. I need to find my idiot brother, then we'll get those blasted relics for the old man."

"Great idea!" Summer declared cheerfully, ignoring the foul look her new partner was giving her. "The more people we have, the greater chance our chance of success! I like how you think, uh… erm…"

Summer caught herself, her smile and shoulders slumped in defeat. "I did it again…" she whined to herself.

Her newly christened partner simply stared at her with a confused eyebrow raised, crossing her arms.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting my manners. I'm such an idiot." Summer cleared her throat, then thrust her hand out to introduce herself happily, her bright silver eyes gleaming. "What's yours? Hi, my name is Summer Rose."

The girl stared blankly at the hand, first flinching as if bracing for an attack, then simply looking like she was perplexed by the action. "Raven."

Raven shook her hand once briefly, then quickly divorced herself from the action as if the entire exchange disgusted her.

"This way." She grunted, striding towards her original path. Summer followed quickly behind.

Even though she was pleased to have at least found a partner, the silence that fell between Raven and Summer was starting to feel like too much for her.

"Soooo.." Summer began after they'd been semi-jogging for at least ten minutes, crossing the desiccated ruins of an ancient tower. "Your brother's at Beacon too, is he? I bet you're pretty happy being able to study together and all. I mean, it'd probably seem really lonely if it's just one of you here."

Summer shrank under the piercing red eye cast over Raven's shoulder, but she couldn't get a word out before both of them heard the sounds of combat distracted them both. Before thoughts formed into questions, Summer was already speeding along until she found an opening where the forest split apart into a wide field.

Someone wielding a tall sword was blasted through a tree out into an open field, he spun and bounced across the sodden ground before throwing his sword out. The blade edge clipped in the ground and the figure landed on the side, the steel skidded across the slick mud while the swordsmen balanced on it light a tightrope before straightening up.

It was the boy from last night, and the breaking strategy was both well executed and frankly damn stylish. He stood atop the handle of his sword, perfectly balanced and still as a statue watching the mist and debris settle stoically.

"Since when could Qrow pull _that_ off?" She heard Raven whisper at her shoulder and nearly jumped.

Summer glanced up at her and was astonished by the look of utter bewilderment on Raven's face, staring at her brother.

At least, that's what Summer assumed he was; given their identical pale complexion, red eyes, dark spiky hair and similarly themed names. Like Raven, he was garbed in the common Mistral style, with a crossover shirt held closed by a red sash and a belt which his sword holster hung from.

His shirt had light grey sleeves and a dark grey chest. Black slacks and buckled boots completed the ensemble. Much of his garb was stained with mud and grass thanks to the previous tumble through the woods, and a steady stream of blood mixed with mud and rain trickled down from his right eyebrow, down his cheek and stained his shirt collar. Similar scraps and bruises littered his frame, but the head wound was most troubling.

If he was bleeding, then his aura had been broken. That meant he was defenseless against another blow if it happened to be lethal. Summer primed her sniper rifle and aimed for the mist.

A distorted wail cut through the pattering rain, and the gleaming yellow tail of a Death stalker crashed down upon him. Qrow executed a perfect backflip off his sword, grasped the haft and performed another flip to avoid the collision.

Moving with the grace of a veteran warrior, Summer watched Qrow glide forward and smoothly slice through the tail.

Unfortunately, his blade only pierced half way. Summer aimed to help, but saw the two barrels parallel to his sword's blade rotate outwards and fire before she could properly line the shot. The added concussive force from the shotgun pellets finished the work and the Deathstalker cried it's distorted hiss in pain.

"He can't take that thing on by himself."

For the first time in her hearing, Summer heard a panic enter Raven's tone and saw her grasp her sword's hilt, the rotating barrels of her scabbard clicking and whirring as she selected the optimum blade for this engagement.

Summer was momentarily transfixed by the weapon's function, but in the second Raven and Summer had taken their eyes off the battle, the Deathstalker gave one last death wail and fell silent. Its body slumping to the muddy ground with a wet slap. Both girls looked up and saw Qrow standing on the white carapace plating its head, his sword stabbed so deeply it pierced into the ground.

Casually, he pulled the blade out, gave a cursory inspection of the edge and hopped off as if the entire exercise bored him.

Summer emerged from their hiding place in the treeline, and was about to encourage Raven to do the same but was momentarily stunned by the bewilderment that had not yet left her face, and then by the suspicion that replaced it shortly thereafter.

"I. Freaking. _Hate_. Scorpions." Summer could hear another panting voice cut through the ambience, and watched a blonde boy trudged through the debris left behind by the Death Stalker's corpse.

He was handsome, very much so. But not in the same way as Qrow, his was more of a cute cherubic quality. One which would be more apparent if it weren't for the horrible state of him. He was covered almost head to toe in mud with tiny cuts, scrapes and bruises. All of which indicated his aura had failed him too.

He wore warm earthy browns and yellows, a single pauldron plate clamped on his shoulder and a brown glove and matching vambrace on his right hand. Attached to his hip was some kind of baton-like device that Summer assumed was his collapsed weapon.

"Wow, _really_? Never would have guessed?" Qrow said with sarcastic cheer, raising a hand to his bleeding temple and flinched. "Like, not at all."

"Seriously! They're a gods damn bane of humanity!" The brawler snapped, apparently unaware of the heavy sarcasm in the remark. His hands pressed on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. A twinge of guilt entered his tone. "Does it hurt?"

"I've had worse." Qrow dismissed with a wave of the hand, not bothering to clean himself up fuether. Or perhaps realising it was a futile effort. "Crap, hope it doesn't scar."

"Chicks dig scars." The blonde shot back with a joking tone.

Qrow raised an eyebrow at him.

The blond shot a pouty glare to his partner, then tossed his hands up with exasperation. "Okay, I admit it. This whole thing was my fault; I'm an asshole and I screwed up!"

Qrow, on the other hand, simply folded his arms smugly with a smirk. "That's good Tai. Admitting it the first step to accepting it."

"What did I do in a previous life to deserve you as a partner?"

"Oh, _soooo_ many things I'm sure…" Qrow chortled.

"And what the hell does that me-" Tai snapped, but was cut off when he finally noticed Raven and Summer striding towards them.

"I suppose this means I don't need to keep such a close eye on you after all." Raven said snidely by way of greeting, her attention focused on Qrow.

"Well, I mean it would be nice having you watch my back, but if that's your takeaway from all of this? Then I'm a little hurt."

"Why _hello there_ ," Tai straightened up and accosted them with a sultry tone, putting on a charming grin that would have been far more effective if he hadn't been covered in mud and grit. "Name's Taiyang, Tai if you prefer. You're -uh."

"Dark, badass and _too_ good for you." Raven shot him down with barely a glance, and Summer swore Taiyang took it as a physical blow.

"Really, dude? Hitting on my sister right in front of me...?" Qrow joked, shoving a thumb at Raven.

Tai blinked, before he seemed to realise how much trouble he was in. "Oh... Oh! _Gods_ , I didn't mean-"

"Oh what? I'm suddenly not good enough for you to hit on because this jerk's my brother?" Raven accused, jabbing a thumb back at Qrow.

"Wha - No, I mean, that's not-" Tai stuttered his way through an apology and denial of the accusations, his hands raised slightly in defense.

Summer almost thought she needed to step in before she noticed Qrow glancing away, she swore she could see him glaring at something in the distance for a brief second. But it wasn't long before he'd started biting down on his fist and his shoulders begun to shudder. Leaning a little to the side to glimpse his profile, Summer realised he was laughing!

Raven snorted, sharing a look with her brother. "He's way too easy."

Realising he'd been duped, Taiyang's shoulders stopped and he pouted even more. "You guys are dicks."

A sudden thunderclap nearby shocked them all back to reality, and to their situation. "Brother, I still need to get my relic. What about you?"

Taiyang fished a small object from his pocket and held it aloft. "We've already got ours. And we were first to pick it up I might add, quite the achievement I'd like to think."

The arrogance of his tone was unappreciated, but Summer thought it was impressive that barely an hour in the first pair had already retrieved their relic. It was a chess piece, a white knight. Far larger than the actual game size and almost comically pristine compared to the two battle weary boys guarding it.

"Where did you get them?" Raven demanded, eyeing the artifact as Tai pushed it back into its pocket.

"A ruin about two hundred metres due west, in a small basin. We'll back you up." Qrow told them.

Taiyang offered only a weak protest. "Hey, C'mon man - what happened to being first?"

"I'd prefer to help my sis and her friend out; rather than pick up on some minor bragging rights." Qrow answered with a shrug. "Besides, it's only the first day. We've got four years more to collect bragging rights."

Taiyang conceded easily with a nod. "Okay, yeah - fair call."

"She's not exactly my friend." Raven grumbled under her breath.

Summer's face was lit with concern. "But you two have no aura, you'll both be in danger if we run into another Grimm."

"Oh please, we kicked that thing's ass." Tai waved his hand with a cocksure grin, jutting his chin towards the now empty grasslands.

"Well, there's that." Qrow pointed to Taiyang and nodded at his point, sharing a look with Summer before looking at Raven. "There's safety in numbers. Besides, when we were bailing on the place, Grimm were starting to circle the area. Regardless of our aura levels, I think you'll probably welcome the backup."

"I suppose…" Summer said, hesitating. "Um, before we head off. I think we should probably introduce ourselves?"

"Right. I'm Qrow. This is Taiyang. Pleasure to meet you." Qrow introduced politely.

"I'm Summer," Summer replied, smiling as she extended a hand. "Summer Rose."

Qrow took it and gave a single firm shake, then Taiyang who looked at Raven.

"Raven." she introduced bluntly.

Taiyang smiled at her, and Raven looked away with a huff.

"Well then; now that that's out of the way, let's get crackin'." Taiyang declared, thrusting his finger out. "Team TRQS is heading out!"

"Yeah, that'll _never_ be a thing…" Qrow deadpanned.

Taiyang growled, his head snapping around to glare at Qrow. "Oh yeah? Well, nice to see how much faith you have in your new partner."

"I have plenty of faith," Qrow replied honestly, fighting a creeping grin. "Just not in Team TRQS being a thing."

"Exactly," Raven declared. "It'll be Team RSTQ, and you'll _all_ have to obey my instructions to the letter."

"Yeah, don't think that'll ever be a thing either, sis." Qrow shot her down, this time laughing outright.

"Fine then, Mr ' _Not going to be a thing_ ' - what team do you want to have?"

"Frankly, I wouldn't mind Team STRQ?" Qrow suggested vaguely.

"Wha - with _me_ leading?" Summer turned on her heel, staring at him then chuckled, a light flush colouring her cheeks. "But I don't want to lead, I just want to be on a team and make some friends."

"In my opinion, that's exactly why you should." Qrow told her. "If you don't want a position, then you're less likely to abuse the privileges that come with it."

"Oh I get ya." Taiyang nodded. "'People don't seek greatness, but have it thrust upon them' or some crap like that."

"Yeah, that's the gist of it." Qrow nodded in agreement.

Raven crossed her arms angrily with a huff. "Well, I suppose we'll find out when we bring the relics back, won't we?"


	8. Chapter 7

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

Qrow winced as he hoisted himself onto the patient's cot. Stripping off his grey outer shirt and the red sash around his waist and discarding them carelessly besides him. The Doctor attended to the various cuts and scratches littering his limbs and neck, giving each one a brief inspection before retrieving swabs of white cotton and bandages from a small surgical tray that lay to the side.

Raven had taken his weapon, _Corvus_ , back to the armoury and stowed it away for him. Qrow made the mental note to properly clean and oil it down later.

The Doctor, Thaddeus Oxblood, was a stag faunas with maroon hair neatly trimmed in a professional style, wearing a pair of black wire framed glasses and a pair of bone white stag antlers that formed the visage of a crown.

"Does it hurt, lad?" The doctor asked, somehow managing to convey a sense of concern despite the cool monotone he spoke in.

Qrow mutely shook his head, he'd been too exhausted to give much more.

Even his reaction to the searing pain of disinfectant was just a twitch in his eye. Despite the fatigue, he absently could appreciate the Doctor was far gentler than others who've tended to his wounds in the past.

Still feeling the weight of his earlier sickness, Qrow hadn't exactly enjoyed being hurled into a hostile grim-infested forest as part of this school's twisted entrance exam. Though for the first time since awakening to this bizarre situation; he was glad for the latent memories inherited from his older counterpart.

Only ghosts dancing across his perception, like someone flashing a picture for a second, but they gave him enough warning about the jarring catapult mechanism. And for the first Grimm he would encounter not thirty metres due east from his landing position.

Qrow had managed to avoid the first pack, and sneak past a second some hundred metres beyond that. Given his poor physical condition and equally distracted mental state, he doubted he'd be able to fend off more than maybe two or three minor Grimm at once.

Regrettably, he wasn't so lucky when it came to the third. A collection of Jackals that were prowling around some sort of ancient stone structure, draped in moss and other vine overgrowth. It didn't seem to be the relic site Ozpin mentioned, but perhaps a minor shrine to whatever deity the main temple once exalted?

Regardless of whatever purpose the site once served, it didn't matter when the Jackal pack - a dozen Grimm led by a heavily scarred and ancient Alpha - spotted and charged him.

After a dizzying melee he couldn't completely track let alone remember, Qrow was flung ten feet into the air. His back cracked hard against a thick flaky trunk, wind stolen from his lungs as his world momentarily flashed black and purple. His body crumbled to the ground in a heap like a puppet with its strings cut.

 _Corvus_ had slipped from his hand and lay just outside his reach. In his blurred vision, Qrow could see the scarred jackal alpha approaching with a hungry snarl, lumbering towards him.

 _Great. I'm gonna die by one of the weakest Grimm around…_ he'd remembered thinking bitterly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

The merciless thunderclaps of the storm and rain pattering his face only added to the dismal depression reality of it all. Briefly, he wondered where the hell his counterpart was. Here he was about to die, and that bastard's aura was still sleeping away.

 _So much for trying to fix the world, you lazy asshole…_

Qrow consoled himself in thinking that pitiful as it was, at least he would die from a monster's claws rather than dragged away quietly into the void without a fight thanks to some weird magic trick gone wrong.

" _Shit_!" The sound of his own voice startled him. His hand seized his scythe with a surge of unfamiliar and unrivaled strength, and his arm moved so fast in three devastatingly fast slashes Qrow was certain his shoulder would dislocate.

And then he blacked out.

The next time he'd returned to awareness, Qrow was once again relegated to the role of observer watching his sword pierce the bony carapace plate of a Death Stalker, and joking lightly about the whole affair to Taiyang. Then he was accosted by Raven and that Faunas girl, Summer.

For reasons he wasn't entire certain, Qrow felt an odd bitterness, resentment and deep hostility towards his sister far beyond the bounds of sibling rivalry, even as his adult self joked to her and lent aid to finding the relics.

Yet towards Summer and Taiyang, he felt a warm comfort, familiarity and heartache, like greeting age old friends after a long time apart. It was jarring in that brief moment that two near strangers felt more like family than his own twin.

After returning to the top of the cliff, Professor Goodwitch quickly took possession and note of their relics, the two identical white knight chess pieces, then hurriedly directed them to the infirmary. Both to have their injuries tended to, and to take them out of the storm.

It was about half way back to the Beacon grounds that his body collapsed to its knees with a sudden sharp gasp of pain and Qrow's control was restored to him.

"C'mon, up you get." Taiyang had said sympathetically, hooking Qrow's arm over his shoulders and hoisting him to his feet. "Pushed yourself a bit hard, I think."

"The adrenaline must have worn off, I suppose?" Summer smiled quietly at him, as she did the same.

"Serves him right," Raven commented stoically. "Push yourself past your limits, and this is what you get."

Qrow didn't hear whatever response either his partner or Summer gave. He was so dizzy with fatigue and the head wound that he'd said nothing as his partner and Summer helped drag him to the infirmary. He didn't even have the energy to wince when Doctor Oxblood took his jaw in one glove covered hand and tilted his head to the side, cleaning the grime away from the small but deep cut on his temple.

His entire body was aching from overexertion, and there were telltale signs of pulled muscles and overstretched tendons in his extremities. A pain that was slowly being soothed by the Doctor's ministrations.

It was his semblance. Doctor Oxblood had a remarkable regeneration based semblance, that allowed him to synchronize his aura with that of his patients, and accelerate healing to exponential propositions. All damage from simple surface scratches and cuts to deep tissue tears and broken bones.

Ingrained memories of his older counterpart told Qrow that one peer in his year, an archer, had their fore and middle fingers horribly mauled in a workshop accident. Not only did the Doctor repair the damage, but the archer's hand had been good as new after just two weeks with only a trace of a scar.

Idly Qrow wondered if the Doctor could sense the irregularity of his Aura, being that there were two. But since they technically belonged to the same person, would he just dismiss it as being exceptionally powerful? Or would he not notice at all?

"There," Doctor Oxblood said with a note of finality. "You'll be tender for a few days, but there's no broken bones or cracks. Have plenty of rest, stretch out any cramps and you should be fine. If there's any pain or further problems, come back to me and I'll give you something to ease it."

"Thanks Doc…" Qrow's voice was barely a whisper, slipping on his robe and affixing the sash sloppily around his waist.

Once more Qrow had found himself trudging through the school's halls and not particularly knowing where he was going.

To the showers he'd hoped. Standing under a cascade of hot water sounded like a dream to him right now, and doubtless his aching body would thank him for it. But events, as they always do, conspired to keep him away from that luxury for now.

"Mr Branwen, may I have a moment of your time?" It was the Professor Ozpin, who appeared from around a corner just ahead. His grey hair only slightly disheveled by the howling winds that lent their aid to the storm, but otherwise completely immaculate.

The sight of him set Qrow's blood on fire and his faded red eyes narrowed into a brutal seething glare.

"What do _you_ want?" Qrow snarled, drawing to his full height while ignoring his body's protests against it.

Ozpin's eyes widened slightly at the tone, then he gave Qrow an understanding look.

"I see," He said distantly, then accosted Qrow again. "Only a moment, Mr Branwen. I know these last few days have been trying. Please."

Ozpin gestured to the door across the hallway and moved to open it, inside was a deserted lecture hall. Five tiers of rows lined in a semi-circle rose above the teacher's desk at the middle of the room, a chalkboard lined with graphs and charts about different parts of geography hung behind the Teacher's desk.

Qrow moved inside and leaned against the teacher's desk, his arms hung limply at his sides but a vivid look of rage still present in his eyes. Ozpin made sure the door was closed before he spoke.

"After these eventful few days and a particularly grueling initiation, I'm certain that you'd like nothing more than to have some lunch and take a nap before the assembly this afternoon, but I was hoping that we could have a chance to speak."

Qrow said nothing, continuing to glare at the older man.

"I understand how you must be feeling," Ozpin began quietly, almost somberly after a long pause.

"Do you?" Qrow sneered.

"You're panicking, confused and angry." Ozpin replied, "I understand those feelings well. I went through very much the same."

Qrow's eyes widened. "What; you had your older self suddenly steal your body away thanks to some freaky time travel crap?"

Ozpin gave a short humourless laugh, "I suppose it's not entirely the same."

"This isn't funny." Qrow snarled, pushing himself to his feet, thrusting an accusing finger in Ozpin's direction. "This isn't even remotely funny! I have a guillotine over my head thanks to this asshole; and _that's_ thanks to something he only found out because he stole your memories or some shit!"

Ozpin looked apologetic and spoke gravely. "I understand your frustrations, and I can even understand if you wish to blame me for what's happened to you. When you look at it from that perspective; I suppose I am partially responsible. But-"

"You know, my caretaker once said that anything before the word 'but' means nothing in the end." Qrow interrupted rudely.

Ozpin blinked. "I assure you we completely agree on that regard, this isn't funny by any measure of imagination. And I wish this weren't the case-"

"But?" Qrow cut in again, peripherally glad that his older counterpart wasn't conscious to slap him up the head for his rudeness.

"- _but_ ," Ozpin continued. "You must accept that this is the situation that has been presented to you."

"This is going to kill me!" Qrow suddenly shouted in white hot anger. "Whatever bullshit sorcery it was is gonna _kill_ me! You said so yourself!"

The Headmaster's gaze flickered downwards in lament, but his tone carried a stoic determination. "And I promise you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that will not happen."

"Yeah right," Qrow spat, refusing what he saw as false and empty promises. "You only care cause I got the other guy inside my head, and the only use I have is to act as his mouthpiece. He's got the info, I'm just the random schmuck along for the ride."

"I care for _every_ student that enters these school grounds, regardless of circumstance." Ozpin told him patiently, with a fierce undertone that brooked no argument. "I'm sure you know how much he cares for you, just as I'm certain you witnessed how furious he was for getting you involved in this situation and how fiercely he fought to get you out of it."

Qrow crossed his arms and leaned back on the desk, pointedly looking away as a scowl lined deeper in his face. He then scoffed, "Gotta be some kind of achievement; how many people can say they've been possessed by themselves?"

Ozpin chuckled in sad amusement at the gallows humour, but regarded the younger man sadly as he tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"You must not look at this as a burden, my young friend, but as an opportunity." Ozpin said quietly.

"Oh yeah, for what?" Qrow grumbled, refusing to meet the Headmaster's eye. He was acting like a petulant child, but he didn't give a damn. He was angry and hurting in more ways than one.

Ozpin watched him for a moment. For a long while, it seemed like the old Headmaster had no answers for him. Perhaps he didn't. Or perhaps he wanted Qrow to find that answer for himself.

"To make amends, perhaps?" The Headmaster mused, Qrow glowered at him. When the Headmaster didn't elaborate, Qrow scoffed again and rolled his eyes.

 _What an insufferably vague bastard..._ He thought darkly.

"This will take time to adjust to; that much I fully appreciate." Ozpin said at last.

"If you can get him to stop yanking me out of the driver's seat every time he wakes up, that'll be an improvement…." Qrow remarked bitterly, and Ozpin chuckled softly.

"I'm afraid that's a matter between you and him. But as it's been demonstrated, you can both control this body. Following that fact to its likely conclusion, it is theoretically possible control that switch allowing you to continue your tenure as a student with only… _occasional_ interruptions."

"And how can you expect me to go about my business after learning what I have?" Qrow asked darkly, "About Salem, and you, the maidens and the whole secret order conspiracy you've got going on?"

"Yes it's not exactly something you can forget, can you?" Ozpin said quietly then his tone took a serious turn. "I'm sure I don't have to impress upon you the seriousness of the matter, and why it must be kept secret at all costs."

"Why does it have to be secret? Why doesn't anyone know?" Qrow demanded, his mind now focused on the subject of Maidens and magics; the latter of which he'd been a victim. "I'd think humanity has a right to know there's a mega bitch Queen hellbent on our destruction out there? At least give us a mutual target."

"It would cause panic, chaos and I believe we _both_ know what that would bring marching to our Kingdom's walls." Ozpin explained in his unflappable patient tone.

Qrow's eyes fluttered and scrunched closed, the heel of his palm pressed to his temple as painful intrusive memories came to the forefront of his vision, as if conjured as a response to his question.

A mountain exploding, a huge Grimm flapping its thunderous wings with a shattering screech, Grimm spawning from dark pools, terrified screaming of people running for their lives, death wails, machines whirring and sputtering to die. His sword in one hand, cleaving through tides of mindless monsters as easily as carving a cake. Clutching a bloodied unconscious girl to his chest in the other. The girl looked remarkably like Summer without her wolf ears cloaked in red, and seeing her brought the string of tears to his eyes.

A strong hand landed on his shoulder and Qrow found himself drawn back to the present, released from the temporary mental prison.

"Are you alright?" Ozpin asked in a concerned register.

"Gods damn it, I didn't sign up for _any_ of this crap!" Qrow shrugged out of the Headmasters grip and carded his fingers through his hair in exasperation, clenching into tight fists as he struggled to control his rapid angry breathing.

"We seldom have the luxury of choosing our circumstances." Ozpin said sympathetically, "We can only choose how we respond to it."

Qrow made no comment, struggling to get his breathing under control with his face in his palms.

Ozpin sighed quietly, sympathetic to the young man's breakdown and perhaps thinking that a distraction from the serious situation would prove beneficial. Something simple and minor that would keep the boy anchored to reality, even as he tried to process the life changing - and life threatening - events that surrounded him.

"There will be a school assembly in just under two hours in the ampitheatre," Ozpin repeated his earlier statement. "The ballroom has been set aside for new students to sleep, and I do believe that there is a roast lunch being held in the cafeteria; I advise you get some rest between now and then."

Qrow gave a barely perceptible nod with the information and Ozpin placed his hand back on Qrow's shoulder, giving a small but comforting squeeze before leaving the young boy to his thoughts.

For the second time today, Qrow found himself wanting to unleash his wrath upon everything in sight. Sick as he may have been, he'd thought he'd get the chance to vent his frustrations through killing Grimm. Slaying Grimm always cleared his head, but even _that_ didn't last long.

Qrow wasn't sure how long he sat on the teacher's desk in the silent dark lecture hall, occasionally illuminated by a thunderclap, the low rumble rattling the window panes. His fingernails dug into the table's wooden edge.

Briefly, his mind wandered to the memory he saw just now towards the Summer look-alike. Thinking of her filled his heart with twin feelings of pride and sadness and he quickly shook his head of those thoughts.

A renewed ache spread through him. His muscles feeling the exertion of the day, and Qrow gingerly pushed himself to his feet, dragging himself to the armoury and the showers.


	9. Chapter 8

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

Ozpin returned to his office with a grave look on his face as the elevator ascended from the deeper parts of the Beacon Academy. Administrative duties aside, he'd spent the morning in the Vault's library scouring notes, researching journals, old ledgers and miscellaneous bits of parchment for the slightest clue of how to treat the young Mr Branwen's condition. He found one. Only a shadow of a ghost of a myth, but a potential method all the same.

But in that research, he discovered a haunting truth to. And a reason for the situation in the first place.

The doors swished open. The familiar ambience of rotating gears grinding away in the floors and walls, along with the scent of coffee that permeated from within was a comfort against his frayed nerves.

The Headmaster crossed his office easily to the small table where the coffee pot rested, poured himself a mug of the delicious brew and savoured the long sip he took. A fine Mistral bean if he were any judge. Only when he returned to his desk and sat down with a soft sigh did he address the other presence in the room.

"I assume you've formulated an opinion by now?" He prompted gently, leaning on his desk and peering at Fenix who stood to the far left.

Fenix gave an affirming sound in her throat. "No sign of our time-traveller friend popping out since the Emerald Forest from what I can figure. Either he spotted me watching, or he's hiding away." She reported. "But on a general note, the pipsqueak's unstable as hell. I'm surprised ya haven't got him locked in a padded room talking to a shrink."

Fenix stood by one of the wall spanning windows, peering out over the school below. Her red jacket zipped up over her black shirt, her messy hair was tied back in a much neater arrangement but her sunglasses still remained, obscuring her eyes and her bangs covered the scarred right half of her face.

"None?" Ozpin questioned with a raised eyebrow, keeping his tone even. "Well, I suppose that's good in some regards. Allowing our younger friend to acclimatise to the situation, for one."

Fenix nodded, but followed with a non-committal sound in her throat. "Damn shame about the traveller guy. If he really is from the future, I'd like to compare notes. I can only imagine all the field work I _wouldn't_ have to do if I could pick his brain for the intel I need."

"Fate Weaver." Ozpin interrupted simply.

"Beg your pardon?" Fenix replied, confused.

"One of the many things I've learned in my research on the matter. The term for someone such as him, who has used the gateway, is Fate weaver."

Fenix spread her arms wide with a bright expression, sarcasm oozing from every word. "And if there's a term for it! Well, isn't that just _wonderful_? Other people have used the Gateway frequently enough to give it a name... isn't that just marvellous? Not like I _needed_ that unsettling thought."

The cander wasn't appreciated, but the thought wasn't a comforting one. Ozpin most definitely agreed with her on that regard.

The woman huffed and shoved her fists into her pockets, resuming her hard tone. "Sounds pretentious as hell. Still, I suppose there are worse things to call a walking cheat-sheet."

"I've never known you to be one to take the easy road through your troubles." Ozpin's lips curling into the faintest smirk and just a touch of playfulness entered his tone. "He's already saved your life once. Perhaps a 'thank you' is in order first?"

Fenix shrugged flippantly, and Ozpin spied a smirk as she turned to face him.

"That depends on the kid, who I repeat is kind of a little..." She raised her right hand, waving circles next to her temple while whistling a two short notes.

It had been a month since the term had begun, and Fenix had made herself an unseen shadow on these grounds. And from every corner, she had been trailing after Qrow Branwen on Ozpin's orders. Whenever she wasn't locked away in the teacher's barrack with her nose in the admin data files that is.

"Would you not be if you'd found yourself facing Qrow's situation?" Ozpin asked, drawing another long sip from his mug. "A young man has just had his entire world called into question by forces beyond his understanding; from without and from within. It's not a shock any person could anticipate, let alone prepare for."

The headmaster paused and a frown appeared on his features as he stared down at his desk, folding his fingers together as he contemplated the situation.

"But that is troubling. Either the adult is purposefully hiding himself to recuperate from the journey, or the bond between their souls is not as complete or as stable as I had hoped."

Ozpin exhaled quietly. The adult Qrow couldn't have slipped away already since the younger one was still present and interacting with the world. The lines etching his brow as he delved deeper into thought.

"Somehow, that look on your face tells me things look far worse for the kid's future. Even more so than what you warned me to watch out for."

"I have said that, yes. I've spent much of my time conducting research into his condition, and so far my efforts have illuminated me to far more dire aspects of this situation."

Fenix folded her arms and looked at the old man, waiting patiently for his explanation. "Kid's walking around with a ghost in his head. Can't get much more dire than that."

"I beg to differ." Ozpin's frown grew even deeper as he scanned the section of text again, he brushed his fingers across his chin while he considered his next words. His mind firmly on the rather haunting bit of information he'd learned.

"The truth of the matter is; if the Gateway had been used correctly, the younger Qrow's aura should have been absorbed completely into the older Qrow's. Or more accurately, _consumed_. For whatever reason, the ritual wasn't properly observed, or perhaps in the haste and desperation to leave, the Gateway wasn't allowed to achieve its intended outcome."

Ozpin looked grave, "It's likely that this error, along with other factors, is the principle reason why his life is at risk."

"Gods in Valhalla..." Fenix breathed, her mouth parting in shock as she tried to take in the information. "Are... are you saying the Gateway should have erased the kid's personality entirely?" she questioned, clearly at a loss for what to say.

The Headmaster nodded once with a heavy sigh. "What's clear to me is the journey is traumatic and perilous for the travelling aura. The soul seeks out a compatible host body and anchors to it, uses the resident aura to recover from the experience."

Ozpin's gaze lowered. "There should have been no trace of the younger man when the elder travelled to our time."

"Gods..." Fenix breathed again, her hand pressed to her mouth like she was going to be sick. "What kind of screwed up asshole built it like that? That's just fucking disgusting..."

Ozpin couldn't help but agree with the coarse assessment.

Fenix swallowed and fixed the man with a hard look, "Are you going to tell him that?"

"No. At least, not immediately. Once we've discovered a means to stablise them both, then perhaps." Ozpin answered, though the headmaster felt the weight of dread and unease grow in the pit of his stomach. "I believe it would be more of a detriment than a boon at the moment. And there are enough matters to contend with, this would be an... unnecessary exasperation to an already difficult situation."

"Yeeah... let's try to put a block on strainin' the kid's sanity more than it has been." Fenix agreed nearly instantly.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two as the weight of the discovery settled, however brief it was. Ozpin leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face.

"Tell me, what do you know of the Shards of Yggdrasil?"

Fenix frowned, giving the headmaster a dark look before presenting an answer. "That was out of left field. Aren't you supposed to be worrying about healing the kid... or-?"

Ozpin cocked a single eyebrow and the woman cut herself off, realising Ozpin was not in the mood for her to question.

Fenix exhaled shortly. "Supposedly, it's some sort of... mystic wish fulfillment thing. Dependin' which story ya believe, they're said to be fragments of the pillars which binds the world itself together. Folks think that whomever finds a shard will have their most heartfelt wish come true."

The woman stroked her chin in thought. "My people once had something similiar in our tales called the 'Blood of the World'. It was said that to consume one would make the pilgrim immortal. Probably alludes to the same thing, but it's all a flight o' fancy if ya want my opinion."

"You're correct, that's a rather... gross exaggeration of what the Shards are capable of, but the principle is similar." Ozpin explained, "In truth, it's an exceedingly rare dust type. A kind that is only found in certain environments, and only then if certain conditions are precisely met."

"What are those 'certain conditions'?" Fenix inquired.

"In truth, even I don't know those specifics... yet. However, that rare dust type is not attributed to an elemental persuasion of any kind. It is, in essence, raw crystalised energy that can be shaped and manipulated to a user's intentions, provided they have the aura capacity necessary to activate it." Ozpin continued, his mind tracing back to the last text he'd read before returning to his office.

"Even I'm not entirely certain if any Shards of Yggdrassil still exist to this day. But for the information - and the lives at stake, I must risk the chance."

"And something tells me that even if it still does exist, it's in an obscure impossible-to-reach locale, otherwise we'd be hearing pilgrimages being sent out left right 'n centre." Fenix mused with her sarcastic drawl before sighing. "So what's this got to do with the kid?"

"I believe if we can find that dust, we will be able to prevent both Qrows from slipping from our grasp." Ozpin explained patiently. "Applications of that form of dust would not be limited to just elements, but restorative or even regenerative properties. With it, we may be able to artificially create an equilibrium between their two auras, rejuvenating both in the process while strengthening the bond between them and alleviating the negative side-effects of the Gateway."

"The backfire, you mean." Ozpin watched as Fenix pondered the notion. "So, in addition to looking after the pipsqueak, you want me to look into finding this ultra rare form of dust to keep him - both of them anchored to this world. That about cover it?"

The old headmaster inclined his head, "In time when I uncover more information about where to potentially locate a Shard, I will send you to retrieve it. However, for the time being, I want you to focus your efforts on protecting Qrow as well as investigating the attack on the Winter Maiden."

Fenix perked up, fishing her scroll out of her pocket. "On that front - and with Gale being less than helpful - my contacts have shot some information my way. May I?"

Ozpin pressed a button on his desk turning the transparent windows that created his office walls completely opaque, lending a dark atmosphere to the room. Fenix walked over to the headmaster's desk and placed her scroll on it. The mobile device interfaced with the Headmaster's computer, projecting a series of profiles from the holographic projector located in the office roof.

Ozpin watched as Fenix pressed her fingers to the projection of one such file, its image enlarging to three times its size, showing a balding man with sunken features and ocean gray eyes.

"Meet Saul Tiber; CEO of Tiber Hydro-Electronics, one of the leading energy generating companies in the current economy and all-round asshole..."

* * *

Qrow's eyes fluttered open and for the second time he found himself in an unseen yet unconsciously familiar place.

"Oh for cryin' out loud…." Qrow grumbled, his lips curled downwards in irritation.

Qrow found himself even more frustrated in realising this was probably going to become a trend and rose to his feet to survey his surroundings.

Surprisingly pleasant ones at that. A warm yellow sun hung high over a blue sky, little dotted with fluffy white clouds. He stood on a dirt brown and gravelled path that wound through a soft green grassland, flanked by an arrangement of lush green trees that rustled gently with a pleasant breeze.

Instinctively, Qrow reached for _Corvus_ on his back and found that it was gone.

"So much for that." He muttered, looking around once again.

Armed or not, Qrow had the distinct impression that he wouldn't be in any danger here.

He frowned at the wrongness of it all. When he'd fallen asleep last night, he was sure it was still raining, and the storm was growing in intensity, not vanishing. The ground should be slick and spattered, trees should be dripping with water and the smell of wet mud should be assailing his nostrils. But there was nothing, not even lingering humidity. Only the freshness of a clear day.

Assuming of course he was still in Vale.

What puzzled Qrow most was that unlike when he awoke at Beacon, this place had a strange surreal haze to it - like something only half remembered. The ambient noise of birds and other critters of the forest were distorted and distant, yet the rest of the world was in sharp pristine clarity.

Qrow bent down and ran his fingers over a grass patch by the beaten path, the blades were soft under his touch and small beads of dew clung to his fingers. The entire realm smelt crisp and sweet and held an overwhelming sense of peace. He felt completely relaxed and oddly welcome. Beacon may have felt like home, but this - This was home.

It was that moment that Qrow realised this must have been a dream. He'd never seen grass this green or trees that large and untouched by combat or warfare.

The question became; was this a dream of his own making, or did it belong to the other one slumbering within his mind?

He scowled. For the past month, that bastard had been sleeping away. There were flashes of course; like bouts of frighteningly realistic deja vu, but no voice in his head or anything. No one shoving him to the backseat. Not even a peep.

The cool wind kissed at the back of his neck then funnelled into a gale in front of him, almost like it was pushing him forward and Qrow was taken from his musings.

"Well... fuck it." Against better judgement he started along the dark brown path, the dirt and loose gravel crunching and shifting underfoot with his weight.

Following the path for what he guessed was about five minutes, Qrow came to a branching fork in the road. The left path was more of the same brown track that ascended a rising slope. From this distance Qrow thought he could make out a stump post and some kind of box attached to the top.

The other path fed into an ancient and sloppily laid concrete path, slanting gently down and curving gently before disappearing into a steadily darkening thicket.

"Well if that isn't the most cliched thing ever." Qrow raised an eyebrow at it, hands shoved deeply in his pockets before surveying the signs pitched at the centre.

Two wooden arrows with stark white paint pointed down the asphalt path, with 'Town' and 'Dock' written on both respectively.

Qrow spared another glance before he pursued the unmarked path, moving towards the wooden stump and the box on top.

It was a post box upon closer inspection and Qrow peered down the rest of the path. At the end was a wooden cabin two stories tall and behind it was a smaller shed. Brilliant yellow sunflowers, and other brightly coloured flowers he couldn't name, lined the front walls in a neatly arranged and carefully cultivated garden bed.

It looked like what Qrow imagined a typical home would. He could hear the sound of innocent childish laughing, young ones at that from the inside and he smiled before he realised it.

The smile vanished when he heard a viciously hungry snarl, so close to his ear he could almost smell the death reeking from the invisible monster.

Qrow spun on his heel and leapt back, dropping into a combat stance. Instinct drove him to reach for the absent _Corvus_ as his crimson eyes scanned the surroundings. He couldn't find the source of the sound.

The previous sun warmth and pleasant breeze had vanished. The sky had clouded over in a shroud of dark grey. The vibrant trees and lush grass turned into blackened skeletons and brittle brown stalks. The gentle breeze now replaced with a soft sigh, carrying the smell of death. burnt wood, lingering decay and destruction. Scents he knew all too well.

With his nerves set on edge, Qrow turned back around to look at the cabin, and found only smouldering scaffolds and black ruin. The entire structure had been reduced to its frames, razed and burned.

A single less-charred stump rested upright a metre from the cabin's front door above a freshly shifted mound of earth, large enough for a body he realised. A large tattered strip of red cloth stained with old blood was tied in a knot around it's column, dragging lazily in the wind.

Qrow frowned, confusion and panic gripping him in equal measure as he approached for closer inspection, close enough for his fingers brushing against the old fabric. His heart thudded painfully when he understood what he was holding.

Somehow, he knew this was _his_ cape.

But he - the older Qrow - was clearly still alive in some capacity. How could he come back otherwise?

So, that left the question of whose grave was it? Who could possible merit Qrow giving up something of his to mark their grave? Then the answer came to him unbidden.

This was Tai's house... or it will be.

With that thought, Qrow became keenly aware that he wasn't dreaming, but inside a memory or a nightmare.

And if this was Taiyang's house, then could this have been Tai's grave?

The thought summoned more images to his mind. Of Taiyang looking much older and worse for ware, blood spattered his clothes and a fierce looking Grimm's talon raking across his torso and throat. Then the Huntsmen in Qrow's arms and a steel vice grip on his wrist as Tai choked on his own ruined throat. Light faded from his eyes, and his hand's grip loosening before falling completely as his life's blood drained away.

Qrow gave a sudden shout of fear, stumbling back from the grave marker and feeling like a knife stabbed him through the heart.

The world around him shifted to a battlefield, a ruined metropolis, the largest Qrow had ever seen. Concrete buildings and other fixtures collapsed across the streets as Grimm prowled like beasts circling their newly claimed territory. The smell of burning buildings, gunpowder, dust and blood filled the air. More than any raid that he'd ever participated, so much so it clogged his lungs.

"Shouldn't go skulking around another guy's memories, pipsqueak. Its rude."

With the deadpan tone, a force yanked him back - like a hand seizing the scruff of his neck and dragging him away.

Qrow landed with a dull thump... on a lounge?

Blinking and shaking the daze away, he pushed himself into a more comfortable seated position and looked around. He was in a living room, a warm and cozy one with throw paintings adorning the walls, picture frames whose images were blurred, a coffee table in front of him with several doors leading to various rooms and a stairwell leading to a second story.

Standing above him was… _him_. A much older, broader and scarred version of himself.

His hair was grey white, dark bags hung under his eyes and a stubble grew on his chin. He wore a grey and black button up dress jacket and slacks. Around his right sleeve was an old red tattered bandanna.

Qrow felt an explosion of rage, shot to his feet and with it, his fist collided with the older man's chin in a fierce uppercut. His doppelganger stumbled backwards with a grunt, his legs clipping across the coffee table and he fell backwards with a hard crash. More surprised than pained by the attack.

Qrow didn't care. His rage had been boiling since the start of this whole thing and he could finally taken it out on the person who caused this mess. Even if they wore his face.

"Ya done?" His doppelganger asked, tenderly cradling his stubble-coated jaw, climbing to his feet. "Whatever happened to 'making the most of it'?"

"Son of a-!" He cussed, reeling back to take another swing at the taller man. It connected hard with his opposite cheek and the older Qrow stumbled back a little more.

"That was _before_ I knew I could take control back!" Qrow spat, his hands still clenched tightly and his jaw set as fury burned in his eyes.

The older Qrow groaned, and straightened up with his fists in his pockets. "Look, you're pissed. I get it. Trust me, I'm pissed too. But are you going to carry on like whiny two year old, or are you going to shut up and suck it up? Cause like it or not, we're stuck like this for the time being."

Qrow's fists trembled in anger, taking a deep breath he crossed his arms and glowered at the taller man.

"Sit down," Old Qrow ordered wearily. "No point getting up in arms about this, pipsqueak."

"And stop calling me that!" Qrow snapped.

He didn't move while the older man sat himself down in an armchair. He gave a cursory glance at the broken coffee table and saw it was miraculously mended itself.

"Ya know, you went on about how you're gonna 'change the future', but how exactly can ya do that when you've been sitting on your ass for a month doing nothing! And I haven't even heard a peep from you since the Emerald Forest." Qrow growled, standing above Old Qrow. "Can't do jack shit if you're sleeping on the job, asshole."

The older man was taken aback by the news. "A _month_?"

"Yeah, a whole damn month."

"Shit…" Old Qrow muttered, rubbing his jaw with his mouth. "Gezz, hell of a sleep-in... damn it." Now wasn't the time for jokes and the man cleared his throat. "So, nothing's happened in the meantime? You've just been going to school, the old man hasn't called or anything?"

"He said he was gonna try and fix the whole _'you are killing me'_ thing, but beyond that. Nope." Young Qrow answered bitterly, throwing an accusatory look towards his counterpart whose sighed softly.

"If that's what Oz said, then that's what he'll do." the old Qrow's brow formed into a frown. "He didn't tell you if the Winter Maiden's still alive or not?"

The young man threw his arms up. "Why does that even matter right now?!"

Old Qrow visibly deflated. "Never mind, its nothing."

Qrow shoved an accusatory finger in his face. "No, you brought it up, finish your damn point!" His crimson gaze narrowed, "You said you didn't care if the maiden died!"

"I didn't say that, I said the maiden wasn't the person I was trying to save." Old Qrow reminded him coolly, gently pushing the hand away from his face.

"Then who?" Young Qrow demanded, scowling.

"I wanted to save the person protecting the maidens. They have some answers I want," Old Qrow said simply, leaning back in the armchair. "If I'm being entirely honest, I sent the warning on a whim. I had no idea if my timing was right, and I have no idea if it actually made a difference. Hell, I don't even know if its the right Maiden. But if I got it right, then Melinda's guardian may have the answers I want. And if not then she can guide me - _us_ I should say - to a person who does."

"About what…?" Qrow growled, crossing his arms angrily.

"Our mother."

All anger shut down instantly. The younger Qrow stared at his older counterpart before glancing away, contemplating the notion. A long silence passed before the teenager sat down on the lounge, gathering his thoughts. When he spoke again, he was a little more calm.

"You said that before... That Morrigan wasn't our real mother. How do you know that for certain?"

The older man exhaled quietly, "I honestly didn't even know there _was_ a story until six months ago, and even then, the only two - no, _three_ people who could tell it were either a year to twenty years long dead. And after already living for four decades, its not exactly something worth pining over."

"... you're old." Young Qrow snorted.

Old Qrow leaned over and slapped him lightly upside the head, more to discourage than to actually hurt. "And you're a little shit, but I don't call attention to _that_."

"Then who is Morrigan Branwen to us?" Young Qrow questioned, rubbing his skull absently. "And why didn't our mother - _our real mother_ \- raise us instead of her?"

"Dead woman walking?" Old Qrow shrugged blithely and the younger one glowered, then he shook his head. "Dunno what Morrigan is exactly. Smart money's on her being our aunt or something like that. As for our mother - well, as I said, I'm hoping Melinda's guardian has some answers."

"If you're not hung up about meeting her - if she's still alive - then why did you bother sending the warning?"

"On off chance I might actually get lucky for a change?" Old Qrow answered flippantly. "And I'm not cruel. Even if its a bust, I still saved a Maiden's life. That's a win in my books."

Qrow glanced around the lounge room, taking in the surrounding as he pondered what to ask next. It was warm and safe. Again it felt like home. "... do you know anything about her?"

Old Qrow paused, "About who?"

"Mum."

The old man nodded slowly, but he looked disheartened. "Her name is Grimnir… At least, that's the surname. Unfortunately, I don't remember much else. I remember major events and some key players in them, but all the minor stuff is fuzzy."

"Oh, well - what good are you then." Qrow muttered in a snarky tone.

"Don't be a pest."

"But that's part of my charm." Qrow said and the older one rolled his eyes. "How did you find out about her, then?"

Old Qrow leaned forward, hands folded together as he stared off into space with a searching look on his face. "She served Ozpin at one point... I can vaguely remember something about a deal; she'd fight for him for a price, and then she died along with one of the maidens. I couldn't remember if it was the Winter Maiden Melinda, or the previous Spring Maiden Savanna."

Young Qrow frowned with some confusion. "But Savanna wasn't one of the names you gave Goodwitch."

"No it wasn't." Old Qrow agreed. "And since Savanna's dead already at this point, Melinda was really the only shot I had on that front. Vaguely curious as I am; I'm not that hopeful to be honest."

"Well - you said she worked for Ozpin right? If he knows something, why not just go ask him!?" Young Qrow suddenly demanded. "You said you had conditions for giving him your intel, right? The first one was axing the Tribe and you said there was a second one-?"

" _That_ I can worry about later," Old Qrow cut him off, deep in thought. "The real problem starts when I start making changes to events, my information's going to become irrelevant fairly quickly as things spiral out of control. Each thing we change will have far reaching consequences for everyone, not just Team STRQ."

Qrow glared at his older doppelganger before he huffed, disliking the abrupt change in topic. He slouched back on the lounge.

"Fine, I'll help." He declared, crossing his arms with a scowl, then shoved a finger at his doppelganger. " _Only_ because I wanna know why my mum ditched us with the Warchief."

For some reason, this seemed to greatly amuse the Old Qrow. "... Like uncle, like niece it seems."

Young Qrow shot him a confused look for the comment before dismissing it with a shake of the head.

"So, where do we go from here?"

* * *

 **Author's note:** I'm back at University doing a Post-Graduate Degree right now, so my updates will be fewer and farther in between regrettably. I've got exams next weeks so this'll be my last chapter for a while.

The Murder has made peace... kinda. And we're introduced to the villain of the Arc, Saul Tiber.

Thanks for reading and kind Regards,

Aurora313


	10. Chapter 9

**RWBY (c) Roosterteeth**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

The forests of Mistral were home to a great many beasts, and not all of an animistic nature. Though, perhaps that definition depends on how one defines an animal. Is an animal a creature that is defined by instinct alone, and merely exists to consume, grow and perpetuate its species existence through mating and producing progeny? Or another kind of creature that chooses to wilfully gleefully cast aside that which defines 'civility' and indulge in the basest carnal desires?

Miranda Teal stared down at the scrappy, blood splotched tome in her hand and read the words over and over. A deep frown etched in the bandit's sun kissed brow.

"Gods, Kingdom folk are a buncha gasbags, ain't they?" She discarded the book uncaringly over her shoulder where it landed in a pile of flaming debris - the aftermath of their successful raid on this cesspool of a village.

"Tell me somethin', old timer," She prompted her partner, returning her white and red porcelain mask to her face. "I figured that as soon as we dumped that little bad luck shit, we've finally have an easier time with all these trips. But it just ain't so. And that ain't even getting into the Huntsmen on our asses twenty four hours a day. Wonder what's got 'em even more pissed off than usual."

Her beige coloured eyes looked up to her towering partner, a man thick in the chest and neck with a shroud covering his head. His name was Bismarck, and he brandished a poleaxe as tall as he was.

Instead of words, Bismarck merely replied with a grunt.

For years now, the tribe had been hounded as doggedly by the Huntsmen as they were by the Grimm, ever since the day the Warchief brought two screaming little brats home from one of her skirmishes. She'd taken a party of fifteen to whever she needed to be, and returned as its only survivor.

Of course, Huntsmen tended to hunt the wild clans of Mistral, but that was only for a reward or bounty or because they were protecting some settlement. Even in those circumstance, those do-gooder Huntsmen would never stray far from their weakling charges.

No, this was a different kind of hunting. One of determination, deliberately planning and persistence that one would admire if they weren't the damn victim of it.

Only a year after those brats came into their company, did the tribe have its first major class with the Huntsmen. Eight in the first attack, but just that eight managed to fell six-three of the tribe's eight hundred before they withdrew. Nearly all the Huntsmen were killed or crippled in return, but injury didn't dissuade attacks. And over the last sixteen years, their numbers dwindled more and more as Huntsmen came at seemingly random interval.

Even with new additions from other subjugated tribes or other strays they plucked from villages dead and gone, their numbers were less than three hundred now.

It wasn't too hard to see the connection between the raids and the two brats the Warchief brought back. So, they were given their new names; Qrow and Raven – one, an omen of calamity and the other of death.

Theoretically speaking, sending the two bastards away should have stopped the Huntsmen completely, or at least let the tribe shake off the misfortune they brought. But months after sending that walking calamity and his bitch sister away, the attacks not only persisted but seemed to _increase_ in intensity.

Of course, many tribesmen put that down to Raven being shipped away along with him. Sending away both their lucky charms ended up biting them in the arse big time.

Teal hopped to her feet, surveying the charred remains of their raid as a satisfied grin crossed her hidden features. This particular little spit of a town was a decent sized dust mining town. Many like it pocked Mistral's country side, and tended to be easy pickings for clans like theirs.

Breaking the defences were easy enough, and most of the populace were civilians who hadn't held weapons in their lives so not much challenge there either. They were lambs to the slaughter.

"We should move." Bismarck said, his low gravelling voice carrying an air of command as he walked forward, using his poleaxe as a walking staff.

"Yeah, yeah." Teal said breezily, bouncing to her feet. "Grimm hot on our heels if we're sittin' on our arses. 'Sides, the Warchief'll tan our hides if she doesn't get her dust."

"Yes." Bismarck grunted, striding ahead to the village where a group of other raiders were quickly shoving food, medical supplies and materials into burlap sacks. Some were hefting entire cracks away from storage houses.

It didn't take long before a single woman's shouts cut through the ambient noise, drawing the attention of everyone in earshot.

"WORTHLESS!"

The Warchief's shouts echoed through the empty village, and when Teal and Bismarck went to investigate they found her she was straddling some poor fool. At this angle, all Teal knew for certain was it was a tribesman. Morrigan's blood caked fists pounded at his features, punctuating each abuse she spat with a strike and oblivious to the mess she made.

"FOOL! NEVER SPEAK THAT NAME AGAIN!"

The sound of flesh pounding flesh filled the air until life had truly left the unfortunate man. The Warchief leaned back and gave a whine as she climbed to her feet, like a child who'd just broken their favourite toy and lost all interest. Such displays of open brutality were not uncommon in the Tribe. But few were quite as thorough as this poor fool's.

Now the Warchief had moved, Teal could get a good look at the bloody pulp left behind. It was Eidar White – something she could only tell from his garb. He was a young adult only two years Teal's junior, not the greatest fighter but he could think on his feet and was good with adapting plans on the fly. However, he never could know when to keep his trap shut. Teal always thought it would be the death of him, and it seemed that little prophesy came true.

"Well, that was thoroughly unpleasant." Morrigan announced with an air of affability, flexing her knuckles. Her gaze landed on Teal and Bismarck both. "Shouldn't you two be doing something?"

"Yes Warchief," Bismarck answered promptly, grabbing Teal by the scruff and dragging her to the cluster of spilt dust containers.

"Warchief." A woman's voice called for Morrigan's attention, and Teal saw Falcon approach the Warchief.

Falcon was a lanky woman with short brown hair, and held a rather unusual spherical canister in her hand. It was about the size of a ripe grapefruit and marked with some kind of special warning label.

"And what would this little bobble be?" Morrigan mused delightfully, plucking the container from Falcon and held it up to the light.

"No idea, Warchief." Falcon replied, "But it was secured and listed as an unknown to be sent to Atlas for study. There's also a note in the manifest for a pitstop into Vale. Perhaps we should-"

"'Unknown', you say?" Morrigan cut her off, still rolling the metallic sphere in her hands to look at the surface.

"You said this was headed to Vale, yes?" The Warchief questioned, Falcon gave a firm nod.

"According to the manifest, it was scheduled to pass through Vale's outposts before re-routing to Atlas."

Morrigan made an approving sound in her, "Now what could the Headmaster of Beacon want with such an intriguing little dust sample?"

"Warchief?" Falcon prompted, and Morrigan gave a surprisingly musical laugh. "What makes you believe the Huntsmen are involved?"

"Oh come now, Falcon. You don't honestly believe that this was intended for anyone other than the Headmaster, do you?" Morrigan bounced the sphere in her hand. "Those weak pieces of trash in the kingdoms have no use for pretty little crystals like this – not for combat at any rate, so logically the only place such a beautiful little gem of power could go to is the Huntsmen."

Falcon nodded once again, accepting her leader's logic. "I see. Yes, I agree it raises questions about what warrants that kind of interest. But are you sure this is wise, the Huntsmen are already relentless in their pursuit, and with the twins sent away - there's no guarentee they won't turn traitor just like _Eryr_ -"

A sharp threatening look silenced Falcon, who suppressed the shudder of fear. Morrigan's fury vanished as quickly as it arose, continuing to explain herself pleasantly. "He turned _her_ away from us, away from the family - anything that ruins his plans is the sweetest honey on my tongue."

"Then why would you send those two to Beacon if you'd already known that? They were only children, but they ranked among our better fighters."

"For all of… _her_ mistakes," Morrigan spat bitterly before continuing in a tone of flippant nonchalance. "… there are _benefits_ to a Huntsman's craft. And it's time we balanced the scales. Qrow may turn traitor, but that's not all together unexpected - it _does_ run in his blood after all. However, the power we gain from this short-term sacrifice will be worth the effort. Besides, I have no need for a broken boy. So long as Raven succeeds in her task, then I'm satisfied."

Falcon was silent, her head tilting slightly to the side as if pondering something.

"What is it?" Morrigan demanded in a sudden rush of impatience, her gleeful mood vanishing a quick as lightning. "Speak quickly, warrior. I'm in no mood for waiting."

"I'm simply curious, they both inherited _Ery_ – the traitor's semblance, yes? Why then would you purposely crush their spirits as completely as you did? Strength prospers above all, that's a basic rule of our creed, but wouldn't it have been easier to treat them the same as any other novices, not like outcast or vermin?"

"I won't have my decisions questioned! Least of all by my second, Falcon." Morrigan snapped, her semblance unconsciously giving her voice a booming quality that the other bandit flinched under. The woman's gaze returned to the metallic sphere in her hand before slipping it into a pouch hanging at her belt.

Any more discussion was cut off when the first howls of a Beowulf, an alpha guiding more of its kind to the burning village, drawn by the death around them.

"Pull out!" Morrigan's voice bellowed, projected with the power of her semblance to be heard across the entire village. The last bandit retreated into the woodlands just as the first Grimm emerged to pick at the village's bones.

* * *

One of the advantages of being a faunas, among other things, was excellent hearing. Of course, this had saved Summer's life on many occasions and helped her through the challenges of her training in an equal number of occasions. However, there were times where they weren't such a good thing.

She'd woken at some point during the night to the sound of foot falls, hurried and desperate. Someone dashed from their bed to the bathroom. Summer kept her eyes closed, choosing to listen and wait rather than interfere just yet. A decision she regretted when she heard the person in question being audibly sick.

With a quick peak around the room, she noticed it was Qrow's bed that was empty. The sound of illness switched to running water and muffled sobbing, Summer was about to get up when the bathroom door creaked open and instinct kicked in, she hid herself under the blankets to appear still asleep.

Her keen vision let her glimpse Qrow's face. His eyes were irritated and his brow set in a deep scowl, and she watched him cross to the dorm room door to leave.

As team leader, Summer came to learn the sleeping habits of her teammates.

Taiyang slept like a log with no force in the world able to wake him. And he seemed to migrate all over the bed, luxuriating in the most impressive poses that led Summer to believe he was part cat. Raven by comparison slept with her bed and back literally against the wall and barely moved. In fact, if it weren't for her breathing, one could easily mistake her as being dead.

Qrow on the other hand seemed to have nightmares every other night, fidgeting and twisting in bed murmuring names, apologies and pleas. More than once since STRQ's formation a few months previous, she'd heard him wake up and pace quietly for close to half an hour, muttering to himself. But this was the first time she'd heard him being physically ill because of his nightmares.

Slipping out of her bed and ignoring the fridged biting cold, Summer fixed her hood to make sure her ears were properly hidden then set off stealthily after him.

It didn't take long to figure out where he'd gone. There was a single stream of dull light from the common room at the far end of the hall. Quietly, Summer made her way over and spied Qrow sitting at one chair, a steaming hot mug in front of him and tears trickling silently down his cheeks.

After a minute's contemplation, Summer decided that perhaps it was best to simply let him calm down on his own. But a twang and sharp crack, sounding a thousand times louder in the empty space, stopped her in her tracks. The clock that hung just inside the common room door came loose from its mount and smashed on the ground, drawing both Hunters attention.

Spotting her, Qrow sloppily rubbed the tears away with the back of his hand in some attempt to regain his dignity before levelling a half-hooded glare at Summer. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

 _I could say the same thing about you?_ Summer answered back mentally, bending down to retrieve the clock and placing it on the bench. The time was frozen at 3:23 and the minute hand kept trying to tick over to the next minute

"I wanted to see if you were okay?" Summer replied, hiding her hurt at his biting tone while she cleaned up the glass pieces. She put it down to stress and his obvious lack of sleep. "I heard you wake up, and I was worried."

"I don't make a habit of doing stupid shit like this." Qrow said, taking a look drag from the mug in front of him. From the scent, it was coffee with two sugars and a touch of milk.

"I promise I won't say anything," Summer swore, wringing her fingers a little. "May I join you?"

Qrow gave a pointed look around the room. "Don't see anyone else about to take it."

Summer tried to smile at the weak attempt at humour, but her concern was far out weighting any levity right now. She crossed the room and sat in the chair opposed to him, her hands anxiously playing with the helms of her pajama pants.

Silence passed between the two and it was almost suffocating. Just as Summer worked up the nerve to speak, Qrow cut her off as if to preempt her question. "I don't usually get bad dreams. Kinda grew up in one big nightmare if I'm honest, but uh… I dunno, this one just really got to me."

"You don't have to force yourself to tell me if you don't want to," Summer told him hurriedly. She did want to help her teammate through this problem, but she also didn't want to strain his nerves more than they already were.

Qrow considered her words and breathed in a deep breath. "Nah, its kinda something I should get off my chest."

"Okay…"

He paused and seemed to be thinking his words over, like he wasn't sure how to put his thoughts into words. Only after taking another long gulp of coffee was he ready to proceed.

"I saw someone I knew - more of a passing acquaintance really; girl with a red hood with a sniper rifle and a little younger than us," Qrow explained in a stilted awkward manner, his grip around the coffee mug tighten, and Summer could tell he was fighting back tears despite the clarity in his tone. "I was running towards her, every intention of saving the girl's life and then-"

He paused, shaking his head sharply as if to try and get a grip. "I saw her getting overrun by Grimm everywhere, and then when I'm just out of reach – some… cone-eyed archer bitch shot her," He pointed to his left eye then let his hand fall to the table.

"I barely even know the girl, and I've seen people die before - but I'm just… I'm stuck mourning the idiot like I'd lost someone I knew all their life."

Summer contemplated the words for a moment, sympathetic to her teammate. "Something my caretaker told me was; it doesn't take long to discover when you find someone truly special, someone you really connect with. And when that person gets taken away, it hurts as if we've known them forever. But as long as we remember them, the people we care about never truly leave us and we can carry them with us for as long as we do."

She offered finally with a smile. Qrow spared her a passive look before the conversation fell silent again. Several minutes passed before another word was exchanged.

"Its not just that." Qrow confessed, leaning back in his chair staring out at the murky black night. "There's… _other_ stuff stressing me out and I'm not sure how to deal with all the crap with it… frankly, I'm not sure what to make of it."

"If it's a secret, you know you can trust me, right?" Summer told him reassuringly.

"I don't doubt that, it just sounds a little insane is all." Qrow sipped some more coffee. "Say you spend your entire life believing one thing is ironclad fact, and then some day, _someone_ drops some information in your lap that makes you feel like you've wasted your entire life?"

"I…" the question caught Summer off guard. "Well… depending on what that fact is - but, I wouldn't even know what to do, or think…"

"I'm not sure how much I should actually share, I mean, I can trust you to keep this under your hood, right?"

"As much as I trust you to." Summer replied simply, her wolfish ears twitching slightly under her hood. Qrow chuckled lightly in response.

"There's someone I wanna find, someone who may know more about me – my family. And there's a pretty strong possibility that they may be my real mum… or at least know who that is."

Summer blinked in surprise, "Does, um, does Raven know about this?"

Qrow shook his head. "No. And its staying that way. I don't even know if it's true, which is why I'm keeping it private, and if I told her then this whole thing ends up a dead end? Rae'll flay me alive for wasting her time."

"Wow, that's a little harsh." Summer laughed uneasily.

"She's a cow at the best of time." Qrow dismissed, then sighed. "I'm just... not sure what to do,"

Summer nodded slowly, before rising to her feet and moving to the coffee maker. She poured herself a cup and sipped the brew. Not a half-bad on either, then returned to the table.

"It may sound a little… weird, but I do know how you feel." Summer admitted, playing with her coffee mug. She stared at her reflection as a wistful smile came over her features. "When I met my Papa for the first time, it was strange. I was raised in an orphanage you see, my mother died when I was very young. And before that point, my entire life was spent thinking of the Sisters running the place as my mother and aunts, but then this person who claims to be my father dropped into my life. It was... strange to say the least, to suddenly have that avenue open up when I abandoned it years ago."

A downcast look passed over Qrow's expression, "At least it got a happy ending, right? I'm not sure I'll get even that. All I have of the woman is a name, and I don't even know if it's the right one. Hell – I don't even know if there's any real relation."

"It did get a happen ending. And maybe you will to, maybe you won't. But, you don't know until you try, right?" Summer offered with a kind smile, "I mean, its not really right to judge a person before you know them. I remember being absolutely furious with my father for the longest time, I nearly refused to meet with him the first time he visited the orphanage. But the sisters convinced me to talk to him, and then I understood why he wasn't in my life."

"It's a little different between mothers and fathers," Qrow said, rolling his eyes. "Fathers can bang someone, fuck off and never even know a kid came out of it. Mothers tend to have a nine-month long wait period."

"Did you really have to phrase it that way?" Summer winced at his words,

Qrow simply shrugged. "So, why wasn't he looking after you? Your dad, I mean?"

Summer cleared her throat. "Well, honestly, its exactly that. He didn't even know I existed. But when he did, he'd spent years looking for me. I didn't meet him until I was thirteen, by then I was already training to be a Huntress and I didn't have any desire to leave my life there. So, instead of forcing the issues, he simply offered to visit when he could – he wanted to get to know his daughter. And in the end, I was really glad we got to met."

Qrow took in her words, and finished off the rest of his coffee. "Cute story. Where is he now? You still talk?"

"We still keep in touch," Summer said, smiling. "Last month we went on a fishing trip together, but we don't have much time together. He's a professional Huntsmen too, so he's usually on missions around Remnant. And now I'm at Beacon, most of my time will be studying. But he's just a scroll call away if I need the help... not that I actually do, but its nice to have that."

Qrow smirked, shaking his head. "Good, cause if that little tangent had a sad ending, I was going to be a little pissed."

"Yes, well, sometimes happy endings are real and they do happen." Summer replied, smiling kindly.

"Not in my life," Qrow muttered to himself, then sighed. "So is that what you're saying then? 'Be optimistic'?"

"Mmm… hope for the best, but plan for the worst is what I'd say." Summer clarified.

"Thanks." Qrow exhaled softly.

Summer drank some more coffee and gave a contented sigh. "Do you feel a little better?"

"A little... not, ya know, _loads_ better but it feels good to get it off my chest."

Summer finished off her coffee. "Glad to hear it, now, do you wanna go back to bed or would you like to spend a little while clearing your head a little?"

"I'll probably go back in a bit. Still sorting out some things, and I have to clean that up." He pointed a thumb at the mess by the sink, were a collection of shattered china rested in a haphazard pile by the sink.

"What happened there?" Summer frowned at the pile.

"Long story." Qrow supplied wearily.

"I'll help you clean it up later, but for now. How about we play a game?" She offered.

"Game?" Qrow's head perked up.

"Yeah. It's the new videogame my dad got for me called Total Annihilation. All you need is your scroll, we can play for a little while before heading back to bed. And tomorrow – uh, this morning really – is the weekend, so we're not going to be late for classes or anything." Summer explained, making her way to the lounge, syncing her scroll to the television and putting both devices on mute.

Qrow nodded. "Sounds great. But, uh, Quick question; What's a 'videogame'?"

* * *

 **Author's note:** So we get more backstory on the clan. Hurray for kidnapping! Also, I have exams next week, but hopefully will be back to updating this every week to fortnight. Enjoy.

Thanks for reading and kind Regards,

Aurora313


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